


High School Is Not a Musical

by agentsimmons



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: (i can't believe this is actually at thing that exists), Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fusion, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - High School Musical Fusion, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Teenagers, Cheesy, Crack Treated Seriously, Fluff, Fluff and Crack, Fluffy Ending, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Sexual Harassment, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Inspired by a Movie, Internalized Homophobia, It's like a lighthearted DCOM with cussing and homophobia an implied teen promiscuity?, M/M, Out of Character, Over the Top, POV Alternating, Past Child Abuse, Past Violence, Teen Angst, Teen Romance, Teen fluff, The Author Regrets Nothing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-20
Updated: 2016-09-20
Packaged: 2018-08-16 01:40:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 40,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8081683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agentsimmons/pseuds/agentsimmons
Summary: Star athlete and golden boy of S.H.I.E.L.D. Academy, Tony Stark has his world turned upside down when he meets Bruce Banner on New Year's Eve and they connect over their shared love of science - something both boys keep closeted along with other things. But when Bruce transfers to S.H.I.E.L.D. things get tricky as they find themselves torn between going for the things their hearts want and playing it safe.





	1. The Start of Something New

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ElleBear](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElleBear/gifts).



> A year ago to get me out of my funk of writing insecurity my friend challenged me to take the most guilty pleasure or cracky plot idea I had on hand and just write. The rules of the challenge were simple: **write, don't worry, publish**. From that [Get In Line, Settle Down](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4825049) was born which - while not perfect - was a huge catalyst in inspiring me to take chances on other longer story ideas I had at the time including [Forged With Blood, Forged With Fire](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5332205) and [Lucky Thirteen](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4995343). 
> 
> Seeing as my writing insecurity never goes away, and I was feeling a bit of a funk in August, my friend and I were discussing the challenge again and she said she'd like to see me to try it again since she knew how much I, and she in turn, had fun with it and how it helped me to get out of my head for a little bit. Seeing as I always have a plethora of goofy and cracky ideas on hand, I decided I wanted to. Unlike last time I didn't write 96 hours straight on this fic. But, it is what I've spent 90% of my writing time on the past two weeks (pausing only to jot down the start of another idea that struck me, a bit of work on an original story, the last Yours Mine Ours fic that was published, and some of the next chapter of Mr. & Mr. Stark). Like last time I let this be a guilty pleasure thing for just for fun with crack, butchering of canon, ooc and ott elements. I started writing and let the story go where it wanted and it's presented here mostly unedited (just grammatical and a few continuity things that were bound to spring up when writing unrestrained). Like before, this is not for personal improvement or to be a serious venture like my other works. Feel free to laugh and cringe and hate it and so on if you read it. But I hope somebody else weird like me finds it indulgently silly fun too *shrug*
> 
> This time what was born, as implied by the title and tags, is a High School Musical fusion. (It was that or a Pixar's Cars inspired AU, but this one has been camped out in my brain for way way longer. Since like, this time last year actually?)
> 
> While not all of the characters match up to characters in HSM and plot elements have been changed (some deleted, some rearranged in the timeline, stuff added, etc.), the general theme is the same: two teens with similar dreams who meet and end up pushing each other into a new exciting world where they can be genuine to themselves. And there are some direct callbacks to and lines from HSM. 
> 
> Also this is DCOM-like FLUFF to the max. Be warned. In general, I used a lot of tried and true DCOM tropes. UNLIKE a Disney Channel movie though, there are other elements like homophobia, Bruce's sad backstory, discussion of teens being sexually active off screen/in the past/etc., and other teen au drama and tropes like that. But it's not a serious fic and like a DCOM it's breezy and campy. AKA: this is idealistic and real life is never as campy as a Disney Channel musical! (It would be nice if Disney Channel actually started offering campy idealistic shows with non-hetero characters/romances for a younger audience though - maybe help break the stigma a bit and show that they deserve to have the same cutesy and happy lives the straight kids in Disney Channels shows/movies have. /soapbox)
> 
> So without further ado, regret or apology... :)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anything can happen if you take a chance.

Tony wouldn't have minded his dad joining him while he threw some hoops, at least not on principle. He and his dad, Howard, might be different people, but he knew it could always be worse. He minded because the first thing out of his father's mouth was –

"It's good to see you taking advantage of the resort's gym. You know money and name alone can't buy you a spot on a star university team."

Tony knew that already. It's impossible for him not to know. His dad has had it planned from the time Tony first picked up a bean bag baseball. Tony Stark was going to excel in sports, be good enough to make a name for himself at a university level and then if the chance to go professional didn't present itself, and Tony was fairly confident it wouldn't, he would step seamlessly into line at Stark Industries: the nation's leading provider of sports equipment. He really didn't have much of a choice and it was one of the walls between them; Tony toed the line, but it sometimes made it difficult to have a quality relationship with his one-track-minded father.

"Heard that one before," Tony quipped before sinking another shot.

Basketball wasn't his game, in his opinion, since he was a little too short and it made him look stocky rather than broad with muscle next to the taller and leaner set. Not that it mattered so much at the high school level, but he knew college would be another story; you had to be damn good to be the little man on a team. Baseball, soccer, and track in the spring and early summer were his sports. Football in the fall wasn't so bad either since he had the speed for it.

He maybe liked baseball and track the best. There was something about flying around a track as fast as his legs could carry him – he'd wanted to get into junior stock car racing but his dad had said it wasn't the kind of thing you went to university and made a name for yourself in the good old fashioned American way. With baseball, there was something about hitting a ball as fast and as hard as you could, flying around the bases, having the reflexes and intuitiveness it took to play a good field. Maybe that was a little of his ego, though; he liked that he could really show off in baseball.

"I know, but it needs to be said from time to time," Howard replied. Tony rolled his eyes because 'time to time' was at least every other week for 17 years. He was pretty sure his dad called plays while his mom was pregnant with him.

"Tony, why aren't you dressed?" Maria Stark's voice called from the door to the resort's gymnasium. Tony turned to see his mother dressed in an elegant gown that he knew cost way too much for just a swanky New Year's Eve party hosted by Stark Industries at the Aspen resort.

"I wasn't really planning on going," he responded.

Because the idea of going to the party being thrown for the brats of Stark Industries employees and other elites from the world of sports was not his idea of a good New Year's Eve. He didn't feel like working the crowd as the Stark heir tonight. Perhaps if one of his friends like Rhodey or Pepper were there it'd be different, but Rhodey's family had gone to Hawaii for their Christmas and Pepper was with her mom on a winter press tour; her mom had just written a bestseller about women athletes… or something like that since he admittedly hadn't read it yet.

"Thought I'd just head back to the suite and watch the ball drop on television or, I don't know, watch the Star Wars marathon or whatever."

"Tony, you know you have to be there," Howard chastised. "It's expected of you. You're the next face of the company, son. You should mingle and make connections."

His mother was smarter than his father, even when she didn't show it, and quickly gave Tony a much better incentive to go. "I believe they're having a freestyle contest on one of the pipes."

***

Bruce hated his life sometimes. Well, no, most of the time. He loved his aunt Susan, but he really wished she hadn't taken a last minute catering job on New Year's Eve. She had said it would be extra money to help cover the moving cost to New York, but he would have rather applied at every Starbucks in Manhattan than be stuck at a posh New Year's Eve party with rich kids and athletes or some sort of nonsense like that if he recalled his aunt's chattering about the event details correctly.

Bruce Banner was not athletic, unless track and Jiu Jitsu and a little skiing counted, and he was not rich.

Sure, he was better off than he was ten years ago, having finally escaped his psychotic father. After his mother's death, a murder that the police had done nothing about, his aunt Susan had taken him away from his father, but the man had kept breaking his restraining order. His father's sister had moved them around several times as a precaution, even straining her already strained marriage until her husband left. A single woman raising her nephew and moving around often on a caterer's salary still only afforded him and his aunt so much. Bruce often felt like an unnecessary burden on Susan Drake.

But his father had finally been institutionalized the year before when he'd admitted he'd killed Rebecca Banner so that chapter of his life was hopefully over forever. And his aunt had been hired by a professional, high end catering company that wanted her to move New York so with a nice pay raise, and without the need to pack up and move every six months or so to escape his dad, hopefully things would finally be steadier for his aunt. She deserved it. And Bruce was looking forward to a fresh start too.

Still, that would be then and this was still now. And now he was still very out of place at the party his aunt was forcing him to attend rather than allowing him to help her serve the privileged kids. He sighed as he tried to blend in with the other spectators at the freestyle contest. He knew just by looking around him that he wasn't the only one here who was a kid of one of the staff, but none of them seemed as shy as he was and some were probably even used to this kind of thing by now.

"Next up on the pipe," came some obnoxious announcement over the loud speakers.

Bruce didn't hear the name because suddenly a small dog ran toward the pipe and to Bruce's horror nobody seemed to care to do anything but laugh and say things like 'oh no' or 'aww' which wasn't helpful at all. He had hoped that the dog would keep running fast enough to get to the other end of the pipe without getting hurt, but it stopped at the three quarter or so mark. Not thinking twice, Bruce pushed past everyone and ran after the dog, keeping his eye on the snowboarder as he did.

The dog looked skiddish for a moment, but then stopped and started again like it was a game each time Bruce tried to pick him up. Suddenly realizing that he or the dog or both were about to take a direct hit from the boarder, since he knew that sports was a science of angles and trajectories and general principles of physics _and his mind was wandering_ , he shooed the dog loudly until it did run on further. He then tried to get out of the way as well.

Unfortunately for him, although the snowboarder had noticed him and tried to slow his momentum, he still collided into him with enough force as he came down the pipe so that they crashed harshly to the wet ground.

***

"What the hell?" Tony groaned as he regained his bearings and sat up on his board. "Hey!" He immediately yelled at whoever he had run into. "What the hell, man!? What were you—" Tony stopped as the boy immediately shrunk in on himself like he was terrified within an inch of his life. Tony wasn't an idiot. This kid had been beaten at some point in his life or maybe was a victim of bullies. Tony was a lot of things, but intentionally violent toward others was not one of them. His face softened and he pulled off his helmet and undid his board straps. "You okay, man? You mind telling me what you were thinking?" he asked more calmly.

The boy seemed to relax and groaned, clearly worse for wear without protective gear, as he carefully turned over on his side to look at him in tentative apology. Tony felt slightly stunned when they met each others' gaze. The boy's face was pale and red, both from the cold, and he had eyes the color of a good dark roast coffee, something Tony could appreciate. They seemed to be soft and sad and yet so deep that Tony couldn't look away.

"I'm sorry," the other boy said finally, and then sat up.

Tony was broken from his trance and quickly stood and offered him a hand. The boy took it and Tony could tell even beyond their gloves that the other had nice, broad hands. And when he had pulled him up, they were standing almost eye level. Tony had maybe an inch on him. Two if he was giving himself a generous boost.

Suddenly there were medics coming over to them and Tony flapped them off. "We're fine here. Well, I'm fine," he corrected. "Are you fine?"

The boy seemed to do a quick inventory of himself. "Yeah, I think so. Think I just got the wind knocked out of me. A little shock maybe. Glad I left my glasses back at…" He stopped as if realizing he was saying everything he thought out loud and if it were possible his face got redder. Tony contemplated that and guessed he must be on the shy side, maybe because of the beatings or bullying. Which was a shame because this kid didn't seem so bad, if maybe a little suicidal.

"So you mind telling me why you had a death wish?" Tony stopped ogling the stranger and got back to the point at hand, once the medics finally got the point and trudged off.

The boy scowled, clearly offended. "It wasn't a death wish. There was a dog that ran onto the pipe and nobody else was going to do anything about it. I was just trying to get it out of the way before it got hurt."

"Let me get this straight," Tony was flabbergasted to say the least, "you risked our lives for a dog?"

"Yeah. I like dogs," he said with a shrug. "And it was the right thing to do."

Tony blinked several times and felt a small flip in his stomach. The guy must be one of those humanitarian types, he guessed. It always was the nice ones who got pushed around until they learned to push back or else it just got to be too much. He wasn't sure why he was psychoanalyzing the kid though.

"Thank you so much." Tony turned at the sound of a familiar voice to see his friend Jake Olson. They called him Thor because he was huge and blonde like a Norse god, and as a joke because his diva of a brother Loren insisted on using Loki as his stage name. His friend had a dog in his hands and Tony groaned.

"Please don't tell me Loki's little pipsqueak is what caused all of this." Tony looked at the other teen skeptically. He then looked back at the new guy and said, "Dude, you should have just let me run over the thing."

The boy frowned and Tony was surprised that he felt a little bad. Why should he feel bad? Loki was a jerk. He tried to steal the spotlight of everything, academics and theater and the debate club and anything else that wasn't sports – which his brother dominated instead. On the other hand, it wasn't the poor dog's fault his owner sucked. He was just an innocent in this and Tony _would_ have probably felt horrible if he'd hurt it.

"I'm sorry," Thor said. "Slepnir got away from me. I saw what you did," Thor said with a genuine smile to the other boy and Tony felt a little, well, strange. It was a feeling he couldn't put a name to, but he was pretty sure he'd prefer if Thor would leave. Immediately. "You are a life saver and I thank you again. What is your name?"

"Uh…" The stranger stammered in response. "It's Bruce. And it was no big deal. Like I told him, I like dogs. I couldn't just stand by and watch him get hurt."

"Well, you have my gratitude, Bruce. I wish I could stay and talk, but I need to go find my brother before he learns of this on his own." Thor gave Tony a slight grimace and then left them like Tony had hoped he would.

Bruce then turned and left in the other direction before Tony could blink. He stood there in a daze for a moment before hurrying after him. "Hey, wait. You can't just get hit and run." Bruce turned to look at him with a confused expression, but it looked like it was teetering on amusement. "The name's Tony, Bruce." Tony held out his right hand for a proper shake.

"Oh, uh…" Bruce seemed genuinely nervous for a moment before taking his hand. Tony clasped his arm with his left hand and gave him a firm handshake before letting go.

"Since my run's a bust and you look like you're freezing, you maybe wanna head inside?"

Bruce's eyebrows shot up. "Seriously?"

"That's not even a question worth answering," Tony replied breezily. "Look, I realize we got off on the wrong foot maybe. But you seem interesting and I like interesting people. And literally nobody else here seems interesting."

Bruce opened his mouth, then closed it and looked him dubiously. "Are you sure I'm not just interesting because you bumped your head or because nobody else is crazy enough to run out onto a pipe while someone's snowboarding? Because otherwise, I'm not…"

Tony clasped him on the shoulder. "Dude, you wanted to save a dog. That's both interesting and adorable as far as I'm concerned. Everyone else here has sticks up their asses. So, please, do me a solid and save me from the other people here. Don't make me use the 'you owe me for messing up my run' card."

Bruce looked like a mess of conflicting emotions. He seemed to be nervous, shocked, intrigued, embarrassed and maybe a little bit afraid before he nodded weakly and a wan smile spread across his face. Tony's stomach flipped again at the sight.

"Okay," he acquiesced.

***

Bruce Banner still hated his life. Sitting with an undoubtedly rich and extremely attractive boy, his own age no less, with the knowledge that he himself was poor, awkward, and not attractive on top of the fact that he'd likely never see him again was a fresh kind of torment. And yet he kind of also loved his life for giving him this little moment at least.

"I'm not rich," he confessed just the same. It was best to have it out in the open before he got his hopes up. "My aunt is a caterer. She's one of the caterers for the event."

Tony snorted. "I know you're not rich." He waved a dismissive hand as if it honestly didn't matter. "One, I don't know you already. Two, very few rich people would have risked their lives for a dog. Well, at least most of this set wouldn't have."

Bruce considered that for a moment before adding, "I'm also not really an athlete unless you count track or, uh, some martial arts." He shrugged but then saw the way Tony's face lit up.

"Are you kidding? Of course those are sports. You're looking at one of the best track stars from my school." Tony seemed fairly egotistical about it, but it was kind of endearing. Maybe it helped that he hadn't dismissed the idea of track, rather enjoyed it as well. "I'm only second because my friend Steve is like, I don't know, superhuman or something. Guy's literally fastest in the state. He'll probably shatter some record one of these days."

"Are you jealous or proud of him? I can't tell," Bruce mused.

Tony laughed. "Neither can I. Probably the first one but that stays between us."

"Don't worry," Bruce said to that. "I don't... I don't really have anyone I could tell anyway."

"That seems a little hard to believe." Tony looked at him carefully, like he was scrutinizing him, and Bruce's heart beat a little off-kilter. "I've only spent ten minutes with you and I'm already thinking about buying you a friendship bracelet," he teased. "How is it nobody else would get that?"

Bruce willed away a blush or at least hoped that the low light of the lodge hid it. "Uh, well, you see my aunt and I move around a lot," he explained. "Hard to make or keep friends that way." He sighed because that wasn't the main problem really. "And also I'm not exactly the life of a party. I prefer reading and science and--"

"Science?" Tony cut him off so unexpectedly that Bruce had to blink in surprise. When his eyes came into focus he saw that Tony had a giddy grin on his face and hopeful gleam in his eyes. "You're into science? Like what do you do? Any particular field?"

"Um…" He pursed his lips and looked down at his lap. "I guess so."

"You guess so?" When Bruce glanced back at Tony, the boy had an eyebrow raised.

"I like science, but I haven't actually… done anything with it. I just read about it and keep up with the community. That sort of thing. I like to discuss it and occasionally I'll do an experiment at home. I guess you could say I only dabble." He shrugged. "I tried a few science fairs in middle school, but…" He looked away, hoping Tony wouldn't see any indication of the anger he felt as he remembered it. "I decided it wasn't a good idea to pursue academically."

He took a deep breath and looked back again. Tony seemed to be studying him like, well, like a scientist might study a sample or a mathematician a complex equation. Finally, the intense look faded into something else that Bruce couldn't quite read, but felt familiar before Tony let out a small sigh.

"It's the scientific age," he said with a hitch of his shoulder. "Scientists are a dime a dozen, right?" Tony didn't quite sound like he believed that. "Every five-year-old with a computer these days has the ability to become a tech genius."

Bruce furrowed his brow. He understood Tony's point, math and science _was_ pushed heavily in this new millennium, but at the same time he was pretty sure not everyone with the drive had the natural instinct. Not everyone could be a Stephen Hawking. Bruce's creased brow was joined by a frown as another memory came unbidden. He shook his head.

"Maybe," he finally conceded.

"You want to hit the hot chocolate bar?" Tony asked after a beat.  

Bruce gave a thin smile. It was a nice change of subject for the time being. "Sounds good."

***

"Okay, okay," Bruce said with a chuckle as he and Tony stood outside on one of the lodge's balconies, freezing and drinking their hot chocolate as if it were enough to warm them. Surprisingly, Tony did feel warm though. He was beginning to understand it might be the company. Bruce shook his head and took a drink of his hot chocolate, cheeks rosy, before setting it back down on the ledge and saying, "What I'm not sure about the newly proposed portal theory is why iridium?" Tony raised an eyebrow. "I mean, of all the elements to try and work with, iridium? Wouldn't be my choice."

"Sure, it's tricky," Tony agreed. "But it's a hell of a stabilizing agent in theory. I've done a lot of study on metals so I can understand why they'd pick iridium. I'd say the more puzzling thing would be getting a high energy density power source. From what I've read about, it just doesn't exist. Yet."

"Yeah they'd have to heat it to a hundred and twenty million Kelvin just to break through the Coulomb barrier," Bruce responded so casually, so certainly, that it made that flip in Tony's stomach return. The boy might just dabble in science, but Tony was beginning to think he was nothing short of a genius – prodigy maybe – and it was mesmerizing and spurred him on. He wouldn't usually talk this freely about science.

"Exactly," Tony said with an eager nod. "But just imagine if they could figure out how to stabilize the quantum tunneling effect," he hypothesized.

Bruce blinked wide. His brow furrowed... well... cutely. "Well, if they could do that they would be able to achieve heavy ion fusion at just about any reactor on the planet."

"Finally, someone who speaks English," Tony blurted out, a little breathless in a way he couldn't blame on the cold.

Bruce was in the middle of reaching for his drink again when he'd said it, but startled and knocked it from the ledge and over to the ground below. His eyes went wide in shock and horror and he quickly looked over the balcony to see where it had landed. Tony followed suit and saw that it was leaving a patch of brown on the snowy ground. When he looked back at Bruce it was clear he was relieved, but still heavily embarrassed. So, doing the only thing that seemed to make sense – and most would argue it didn't – Tony flicked his hand against his own drink and let it fall to the ground as well even as Bruce was still perched over the railing so that he could see it fall.

Bruce slowly straightened back up and looked at him, his eyebrows knitting and unknitting. Then suddenly he gave a small chuckle that turned into a cautious laugh and naturally Tony followed suit until they were both laughing over the incident.

"I was..." Bruce said between laughs, "starting... to think you were a genius. Now," he shrugged slowly in amusement, "I'm not so sure." He shook his head.

"Yeah, well, I'm certain _you're_ a genius," Tony replied, not upset by the jab in the least.

"By the way, your drink hit somebody," Bruce then said and Tony's eyes widened. He quickly looked over the railing only to see the drink harmlessly on the ground like Bruce's. He looked back at him with narrowed eyes. "You... You troll," he said with a laugh. "You're a genius and a troll. That's... wonderful by the way," he said, smiling wide. "But nobody would guess it looking at you, would they?"

"Well, they'd have to look at me in the first place really," Bruce answered with a rueful, thin smile.

"Genius, troll, self-deprecating," Tony outlined in scrutinous fashion. "Got it."

"I don't know if I'd go as far as to call me a genius," Bruce said and his cheeks looked just a little more colorful than before. "I..." He looked away and down. "I've gotten the word freak before," he mumbled and Tony wondered if he was supposed to hear that.

But he had heard and he couldn't believe it or comprehend it. He suddenly recalled the way Bruce had curled himself up, how he'd flinched. Was that part of it?

"Freak?" Tony echoed in askance. Bruce looked back at him sharply, though not necessarily indignant. Tony considered how to put it delicately. Being delicate or tactful wasn't always his strong suit. "Well, then I must be one too," he went with and Bruce quirked a brow. "Because I'm just as... I mean, I don't think I've met anyone who..." He paused, wondering if he was being ridiculous or brash; two things he was often accused of. He didn't want to freak the other boy out, but something about tonight felt right. Standing there with him, talking about science, just sharing each other's company... looking into his eyes...

"Anyone who speaks English?" Bruce repeated his earlier sentiment in a hesitant tone as he held his gaze.

"Yeah," Tony answered.

"Yeah," Bruce agreed.

They were broken suddenly from their trance by the sound of loud chanting of the end of year countdown all around them. They both looked around as if in expectation and Tony realized Bruce seemed suddenly shy and unsure. He pondered that for a moment and then it struck him just as the fireworks shot off into the night sky and a glance inside the lodge showed him at least a few couples honoring the tradition of a midnight kiss.

He looked back at Bruce and the boy had his head tilted upward to take in the fireworks and Tony could swear the light was dancing in his dark eyes, making them sparkle.

"Here's to a happy year, Bruce," Tony wished him and Bruce turned his head to meet his gaze. "And who knows?" He hitched a shoulder. "Maybe this year could be the start of something new for the both of us." He really hoped so. He was tired of feeling like he had everything and nothing and something told him that Bruce felt dissatisfied too.

"To something new," Bruce said with a thin smile and Tony would be lying if he didn't want to brush his lips against it. But that would _really_ be brash. He didn't even know if Bruce liked boys that way. Tony realized they were staring at each other intently again, Bruce's mouth slightly parted as if uncertain, when Bruce suddenly looked away as if flustered – and maybe Bruce did like boys that way after all? "I, uh, should probably go find my aunt Susan since the party's going to be winding down."

He looked ready to leave when suddenly Tony really didn't want him to. "Right," he forced himself to say. Bruce turned and Tony panicked, afraid of losing this for good. "Hey, wait." Bruce stopped abruptly and turned to him with wide eyes. "I..." A thought struck him and he pulled out his phone. "I was wondering if I could get your number maybe? I could text you?"

Bruce looked surprised, and honestly Tony thought he shouldn't because he was amazing and it wasn't his fault their peers were generally stupid. "Uh, sure," he finally acquiesced and pulled out his own phone, which Tony noted wasn't the latest model iPhone like his own rather quite an older model android, but he wasn't about to mention it.

"Smile," Tony urged, holding his own up.

"Oh no," Bruce said with a chuckle that Tony snapped quickly. "Oh god, I'm so not photogenic. You should delete it."

"I will if you insist," he offered as he looked at it. "But you're really not."

Bruce didn't insist and they quickly traded phones and numbers before giving them back again. Then just like that Bruce was gone and Tony was left feeling stunned. He glanced down at his phone and the picture of Bruce, mid-laugh and beautiful. He hoped he had a chance to at least see him again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. I'm honestly a bit excited that I got to do something a bit different with Bruce's backstory in this one. I mean his dad's still awful and his mom is still dead, but I liked that I ended up giving Susan Drake a little more prevalent of a role in his life than we usually see (she doesn't get like a _lot_ of time, but you know). I mean, this is the woman who was going to leave town to protect her nephew before Ross showed up and screwed it all up so I like to think she'd totally be a badass single aunt (a la Aunt May) if given the chance.   
>  2\. I think the hardest concept for me to wrap my own head around while writing this was the idea of Stark Industries as a sports company and Howard being into sports equipment instead of weapons and military and all that. And him not pushing Tony be into science and genius. And obviously whenever writing Howard and Maria alive (and Howard not as a constant jerkass) it's like...okay are you ooc or is there just not enough of your personalities in canon to do much with? (Howard is especially uneven in the MCU imo.)  
> 3\. While this is mostly HSM-inspired, some of it was also inspired by the similar and (as much as I am fond of HSM subjectively) superior DCOM Eddie's Million Dollar Cook-Off.   
> 4\. For those unfamiliar with comics, or haven't read a story that used the aliases before, Jake and Loren Olson are aliases of Thor and Loki at one point in the comics.   
> 5\. I think the beginning of this chapter might have also been a shout out to another DCOM called Cloud 9 but the details are fuzzy beyond snowboarding and dogs...?


	2. Get Your Head in the Game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Why am I feeling so wrong?

Bruce knew that his aunt's new catering company was for high-end customers, and that it meant they'd be moving into a nicer home just outside Manhattan in a Long Island neighborhood. But he hadn't really counted on the overwhelming prospect of attending a high-end prep school too. Yet here he stood in the near-empty main hallway of S.H.I.E.L.D. Academy with his aunt Susan by his side and the vice principal who had just emerged from the office with his schedule.

Bruce could feel his stomach churning in apprehension. It churned with premonition that something was going to happen. Knowing his luck in life, it would be something bad. Of all the schools to transfer to. It just had to be one where he'd yet again be sure to stick out like a sore thumb. He'd be the poor kid. And then what if they found out he was smart? Or found out about his past? Or just found out about him in general. 

"Aunt Susan, I... I'm not feeling good," he said and it wasn't a lie. "I think I'm going to be sick."

His aunt Susan politely excused them from vice principal Coulson and moved him a few steps away, hands coming to squeeze the tops of his arms gently. "You're just a little nervous about your first day, Bruce. We go through this every time. You're going to be fine. You'll see."

"You've said that before," he pointed out, but regretted it immediately when she gave a pained expression. He felt bad. She did everything she could to raise him like her own kid and keep him out of trouble when he needed it. He was grateful, but he didn't always feel like he was. "I'm sorry," he apologized.

She sighed, squeezed his shoulders again and then let one hand fall and the other come up to stroke his cheek in a motherly fashion. He missed his actual mother's touch, but he was grateful for his aunt's warmth too.

"I know it's been hard. I do," she said. "But you're a wonderful young man, Bruce. You shouldn't be so afraid to let people see that. And if they can't, then it's not _your_ fault."

"I just don't want to be the freaky genius boy again," he said desperately. At his last school his interest in science had been discovered along with his unfortunate science fair mishap in seventh grade. He'd been bullied the rest of the year by those who picked on nerds for no good reason and not really accepted by the other smart kids either. 'He's probably insane. Like some mad scientist or sociopath,' he'd heard a few of them say in cruel whispers.

"Oh, Bruce," she said with a sigh, stroked his cheek with her thumb again, and then let her hand fall. "That's not who you are. Just, try your best for me okay? We're not moving again if I can help it. I promise. So let's just take it a day at a time for now, what do you say?"

Bruce didn't have much of a choice and he felt he owed his aunt that much trust at least. He nodded. "Okay." He let her give him a hug.

"Mr. Banner," vice principal Coulson said, "I promise you that you're going to fit in here. We've gone over your transcripts and I'm certain you'll find a place in our school where you can thrive." Bruce didn't comment. The guy seemed cheery enough and probably believed what he was spouting. Bruce had heard it before though. "This is Natasha Romanov," he said of a redheaded student that had joined him at some point. "Natasha, our new student Bruce Banner."

"Welcome," she said simply, her voice smooth and neutral.

"Thanks," he said just as simply.

"Natasha is our 11th grade student president," he said, "and our new student liaison." Bruce raised his brows at the superfluous democracy of it. "She'll help you around until you get settled."

"This way to homeroom," she said, stepping forward then and past him, gesturing for him to follow with a nod of her head. Bruce gave one last look at his aunt who shared his impish thoughts no doubt given the laughter in her eyes. It was a nice look to start his new school adventure off with he thought as he turned to follow Natasha. "Coulson's not wrong about finding a place to fit in around here," Natasha said as they walked up a flight of stairs. "We've got about a million academic clubs and sport options."

"Yeah, I noticed," Bruce replied. "Seems a bit... much to take in."

She snorted. "You meant excessive. Might as well call it what it is." 

"I don't know if I really want to join any clubs, honestly," he told her, just to make small talk. She quirked an eyebrow. "It's the middle of the year and I should probably just catch up on the curriculum." She gave a soft hum, not judgmental necessarily but still a tad appraising.

"Well, that's the best way to make friends and meet people," she said, "if you're into that sort of thing."

"Do I strike you as someone that's not?" Bruce asked.

She quirked her lips and gave a shrug. "A little." She then stopped in front of a classroom that students were filing into just as the bell rang. "So I guess it's a good thing there's an empty seat no one uses right in the back," she teased and he wasn't sure quite how to respond so he just gave a small nod and moved to said seat.

As he pushed through the aisle, excusing himself as he went through, he thought he heard someone mention something ludicrous about pink jelly, but decided he really didn't want to know. Even though the voice had sounded oddly familiar.

"Alright, everyone," the teacher, whose name according to Bruce's schedule was Mr. Selvig, came into the classroom, "settle down. The holiday is officially over and—"

Suddenly Bruce's phone went off and he nearly squeaked and had a mild heart attack. _Of course._ Off to a wonderful start already, he thought as he scrambled to pull his phone out of his bag and find out who could possibly be calling him. Wait. It was Tony?

"If I've said it once, I've said it a hundred times," Mr. Selvig suddenly started chastising the class-at-large. "This is a strict no-cellphone classroom. Other teachers may allow you to ruin your deductive reasoning, research skills, and critical communication ability in class, but I will not tolerate it. All of you who have your cell phones out, put it in the bucket. You will have it returned to you at the end of detention where you all will be." Bruce's head was still spinning in confusion as phones began to drop into a bucket. Then the teacher stopped in front of him. "Welcome to S.H.I.E.L.D. Academy, Mr. Banner. My father always said the best way to learn the rules real fast is to break them unintentionally. So I will see you in detention."

Bruce sighed and put the phone in. It wasn't much of a loss. He really only kept it on hand if he absolutely had to take or make an emergency call to his aunt. He was sure he could get through one day without that being the case. He just wanted to know why Tony had tried to call him. Then he heard a blonde kid near the front start arguing with Mr. Selvig and his eyes widened.

"With all due respect, Mr. Selvig," the kid was arguing politely at least, but insubordination was still insubordination, "Tony has to be at basketball practice. And we have the game against the Wolverines coming up."

Tony? Bruce craned his neck trying to see if Tony was actually there. Could that be possible?

"And now that's detention for you as well, Mr. Rogers," the teacher said without qualm. "If you and Mr. Stark are the superstars this school seems to believe you are then you will be able to do one thirty minute detention without jeopardizing the outcome of the game."

"That's the problem," Natasha said in an even, but sniping tone. "They aren't." That was followed by heckling 'oohs' until Mr. Selvig intervened.

"And detention for you, Ms. Romanov." He looked at all of them. "Shall we keep going?" There was awkward radio silence, but Bruce had to admit he felt a little better not being the only one called out. Nobody was even paying him any attention, not surprising but in this case a good thing. "No?" Still no sound. "Good. I will hopefully make future functioning adults of you yet. Now does anyone have any questions about—" The hand of the girl beside Bruce shot up. Mr. Selvig looked ready to sigh, but asked, "Yes, Miss Lewis?"

"How was your holiday, Mr. Selvig?" The entire class groaned as the bell rang again. "What?"

Bruce didn't care about the girl beside him or the class's reaction or even if he needed to wait for Natasha. He caught a glimpse of a boy that looked like Tony and his heart stopped. He grabbed his things and, to his own surprise, hurried out of the room to try and find him.

"Bruce," he heard his name and turned his head quickly to see Tony standing behind him with wide eyes. "You're here."

" _You're_ here," Bruce repeated.

"I texted you," Tony said, searching his face.

"I know," Bruce replied and looked down at his schedule. Tony glanced at it too and then pointed before taking a few steps to show him the way. Bruce followed, catching a glimpse of Natasha watching him curiously. "I was going to text you back after school. I got so busy with my aunt, packing up and moving right after the party. She wanted to get here in time for the start of the new semester," he explained. "When I checked, there was no text. When I checked again last night there was, but I didn't know if you'd be asleep or—"

"Hey, it's fine," Tony finally cut off his apology. "I'm just…" He stopped abruptly. "Wow." Bruce nodded in understanding. "I can't believe this is where you moved."

"I can't believe it either."

"I really wanted to see you again," he said in a hushed voice.

Bruce furrowed his brow. "Is there a reason you're whispering? Do you not want anyone to know that?" He hated to be suspicious, but it was a knee-jerk reaction.

Tony blinked. "What?" He raised his voice. "No, of course not. I was…" He sighed and held up a hand to his forehead, rubbing at it. "Well, okay, nobody knows that I'm—" Bruce raised his brows, wondering where Tony was going with that statement. Where he hoped he might go with that statement. "They don't know I'm into science, okay?" He let his hand fall to his leg with a slap.

"What?" Bruce blinked this time. "After all your enthusiastic talk… I don't believe it."

"You're not the only one who dabbles," Tony confessed. "It's very much a closeted hobby. And it's a very crowded closet," he said as if an afterthought.

Bruce bit his lip, thinking about Tony's admittance and then looked around at the T intersection where they stood. It was packed to the brim with bulletin boards and sign-up sheets for extracurriculars. Front and center was one for the regional science competition. He thought back to New Year's Eve. Now Tony's behavior made sense as did his comment about scientists. He was opening up about himself to a stranger, being something closer to himself and Bruce hadn't even realized it. What did that mean?

"Pot. Kettle," Bruce said finally. "I definitely can't judge you for staying in the closet. My closet's pretty crowded too," he admitted and didn't dare look Tony in the eyes as he said it. "I—"

"Oh, the new boy," he was interrupted and he turned to see a tall, thin boy with milky skin and raven hair that offset it dramatically. "Welcome to S.H.I.E.L.D. Academy," he drawled and gave Tony a disdainful sort of look-over. "Already getting in with the privileged set, I see," he said. He then turned and signed his name to the science competition sheet in big, overly dramatic letters that said a lot about his personality if signature psychology was to be believed.

Loki.

"Oh," he muttered as the name jogged his memory. He was the owner of the dog that Bruce had tried to help.

"Excuse me?" Loki turned to him quickly with a raised eyebrow. "Did you want to say something?"

"Huh?" Bruce faltered back slightly and he glanced at Tony to see him glaring at the other boy. "No, I—I just…"

"Or were you thinking of signing up for the competition?" he then asked with a tilt of his head. "We can always use more people to represent our school," he started reasonably enough. "Or else other schools get the unfortunate impression that all we have are brainless athletes and mouth breathers," he ended less-so.

Bruce could feel Tony bristle beside him and he had to admit he wasn't feeling too comfortable either. Loki seemed like the kind of kid that liked to stir up drama and look down on everything and everyone for some slight or another, real or imagined. He definitely seemed like a bully, and Bruce had dealt with enough of them by now to know.

"I… No," he finally said. "I wasn't. I was just thinking there's a lot going on at this school. I wouldn't even know where to begin. So I'm not planning on beginning anywhere." He glanced at the board again and felt that pesky part of him that always wanted to fight back and prove himself in the face of a bully. "Nice penmanship," he said and then ducked his head and hurried on, kicking himself for giving in.

"You didn't even stick around to see his face, oh man," Tony said, catching up to him. "Troll Banner strikes again and scores a 10!"

"I shouldn't have done that," Bruce replied with a sigh. "The last thing I need is to make an enemy on the first day. I always do this. Stupid, Banner," he berated himself.

"Hey," Tony grabbed his arm and spun him around. He looked a little startled, probably from the caught off guard frenzied expression Bruce felt on his own face. "You're not stupid," he barreled on in quick recovery. "And everything will be fine. You've got to stand up to that asshole or he'll walk all over you. You're not the first and, trust me, the rest of us will have your back against him."

"Against who?" They were suddenly joined by the boy that had been arguing with Mr. Selvig. Rogers?

"Loki," Tony answered.

"Ah," he toned. "Yeah, don't let the ol' frost giant unnerve you, son. The only person who likes him is his brother and Loki doesn't even like him back as far as we can tell."

"Maybe a sadistic or internalized cest-crush kind of like," Tony said with a shrug.

"I'm not even going to comment on that," Steve said with a disapproving scowl.

Bruce's head was spinning a little as he looked back and forth between the two. "Son?" he settled on with a quixotic look in Rogers' direction.

"Don't mind Steve." Tony said with a laugh and elbow to the other boy's arm. "He thinks this is the 1940s. Acts like he's 90."

"I do not," he said with another scowl. "And we need to get to gym class." Tony rolled his eyes.

"And I need to get to AP physics," Bruce said, hoping to intervene a little.

"Down the hall. Last door on the right," Tony directed. Bruce saw the strange look Steve gave him. "See you later?"

Bruce smiled tentatively. "I hope so," he admitted. "Nice to meet you, Steve." He turned to leave.

"You too, uh…"

"Bruce," he heard Tony supply. "His name is Bruce." Bruce smiled a little more genuinely as he walked away.

***

"Since when do you know where the AP Physics classroom is?" Steve asked Tony in the gym locker room before class.

Tony's eyes widened as he paused mid-reach for his gym shirt. He slowly pulled it out and shut the locker. He just shrugged.

"We have an _AP_ Physics?" Clint asked as he pulled on his own gym shirt. "What kind of nerds would even _take_ that class?"

There was a round of laughter from some of the others, although he noted not Steve, and Tony gritted his teeth. He looked off to his far right and saw one of the school's smartest kids, a freshman, frowning deeply. That kid didn't deserve this kind of treatment just because he was brave enough to own that he was smart, unlike himself. Tony couldn't help but think of Bruce too and he bristled even more.

"Hey!" Tony turned and threw his shirt at Clint. Everybody's laughter subsided and they looked at him in sharp confusion.

"The hell, man?" Clint took the shirt and threw it back. Tony quickly pulled it on and then fixed him with a scowl.

"Those _nerds_ are the ones that make our lives better, Barton," he snapped. "What makes us think we're better than them just because we aren't as smart, huh? Without geniuses we wouldn't even have technology so you could forget about becoming a celebrity athlete adored by millions of fans able to watch your game from the comfort of home. No television means no commercials and no commercials means less sponsor opportunities. Where do you, where does _anyone_ , get off making fun of a smart person? What's the shelf life of an athlete anyhow? Statistically speaking if we're lucky maybe _one_ of us in this locker room will have a long career. But sooner or later all of us are going to have to do another job and maybe then we'll be wishing we were the smart kid or the kid who had a passion for something other than sports day in and day out or we'll wish we'd figured out other ways to be passionate about sports off the field." The locker room was so quiet that the noise from the school beyond the door could be heard. "And for the record sports is a physical _science_."

Tony let his eyes sweep over all of them, most of their expressions stunned, before shaking his head and turning to leave. "I don't know about all of that," he heard Steve comment as he walked away, "but nobody likes a bully. We're no better than someone like Loki if we treat people that way."

Tony pushed through the door of the locker room and saw Coach Ross standing there, clearly having heard the exchange. "Not much of a morale boosting speech there, Stark," he said with a narrow gaze.

Tony snorted. "Maybe because I wasn't trying to boost their morale, Coach," he said and then began a warm up jog around the gym.

Not even a full minute later he was joined by Steve, the faster of the two catching up easily. "So what was that really about?"

"You already said it, Steve," he said as they continued to jog, the other students in this gym period slowly falling in around and behind them. "Nobody likes a bully."

"Yeah, okay, but three months ago you would have laughed right along with everyone else. Don't pretend it isn't true. I've been there. I've seen you laugh." Tony frowned through an intake of oxygen. "You might not have been the one doing the bullying and you've always been nice to those that deserve it, but you wouldn't have gone out of your way to say what you did in there."

"Maybe I'm tired of being that person," Tony said vaguely, feeling the truth in his words deeply just the same. "Maybe I'm tired of letting that kind of stuff slide. Feeling like I'm on some damn pedestal because I can shoot a hoop or kick a soccer ball."

"The same day there's a new kid that's smart enough to take AP Physics?" Tony came to a stop to the side and began stretching. Steve followed suit. "Who is this Bruce guy and what's the deal with you and him?"

"He's new. He's smart." Tony wouldn't out how smart "He's a great guy. Not much else to tell," Tony said with a shrug.

"Really?" Steve sounded disbelieving. "Because protective boyfriend mode in the locker room isn't much to tell?"

"He's not—" Tony started.

"I got that," Steve interrupted before he could finish. "But _are_ you into him?" Tony blinked several times at him. Steve rolled his eyes when he couldn't find a suitable answer. "Look, you know that I know right?"

"I didn't," Tony admitted.

"I wondered a few times here and there, but remember when the whole team went to see _Skyfall_?" Tony's eyes widened. "Yeah, it was pretty obvious you were already hot and bothered by Daniel Craig long before that shower scene got the rest of us going."

"That's not fair. It's Daniel Craig." Tony frowned.

Steve chuckled. "True." He then looked at him seriously. "Look, I'll be honest. I see this thing two ways. As your friend I want you to be happy. As the captain of this team, I think you shouldn't really let this be a distraction right now. We need your head in the game, Tony. Not in the clouds chasing after the new smart kid you don't know anything about and probably wouldn't even have anything in common with anyhow. I get if you think he's cute or whatever, but is it really worth the drama right now? You know the team's stance on this."

Tony's frown deepened. "How do you know I don't just want to be friends with this guy? Huh? Just because…" He hated himself for glancing around and waiting for a few students to jog by when all he really wanted was to be open about it. Steve knowing might be a good first step though, he reasoned. Then again Steve seemed to have a distorted picture which brought him back to the moment. "Just because I like boys doesn't mean I go chasing after them as potential hookups, Steve," he finished.

"I never said that," Steve countered. "I'm just saying—"

"I think I get what you're saying. But you're making a big deal out of nothing."

"Fine. Be impossible," Steve said with a sigh and walked away. Tony tweaked his jaw and then let out a sigh of his own.

He wasn't being impossible. He was just mad that he couldn't shake the carefully buried longing Bruce had stirred in him to do the impossible. Maybe this wasn't about Bruce. Maybe this was about Tony. Maybe he just really wanted to sign up for the science competition.

***

Bruce felt a shadow looming in front of him. He looked up from where he sat alone at a table in the detention hall, getting started on his homework. His eyes widened when he saw that it was Natasha. He hadn't seen her all day after he'd blown her off for Tony that morning.

"I'm so sorry," he apologized immediately.

She tilted her head. "You were never obligated to take my help," she said evenly. "Just if you needed it. Clearly you had friends in higher places." He furrowed his brow while her lips quirked. "I'm just a little surprised since you didn't strike me as someone who speaks cheerleader."

The crease in his brow tightened. "Cheerleader?"

She turned toward another table where the girl from homeroom, Darcy, was sitting. She'd had her iPod confiscated during English class.

"Hey, Darcy," she called and the chipper girl looked at her with a raised brow. "Isn't Tony Stark, like, so incredibly hot?" Darcy perked up immediately, with bright eyes and a bright smile, and nodded. "And, _ungh_ ," she exaggerated the sound, "don't even get me started on how _dreamy_ Steve Rogers is."

Darcy squealed as did the other girls at the table she sat at and they began chattering among themselves about how true it was. Bruce gave a small chuckle and maybe flushed a little at the implication.

"So that was cheerleader, huh?" He looked at her with a raised brow and pursed lips. "Nope, can't say I'm fluent."

She gave a thoughtful hum. "So Tony Stark suddenly felt like being altruistic? Seemed like you two know each other." She gave him a scrutinizing look as she sat down in front of him. "Or want to," she added with a smirk.

Bruce coughed and looked down at his book. "I don't really know him. We'd only met once before. But..." He looked back up. "He seemed like a cool guy to be friends with." She narrowed her eyes for a second before easing up.

"Maybe," she said after a moment. "Or maybe you met him outside his natural habitat of," she glanced up and smiled thinly, "shallow, self-obsessed, elitist athletes."

"And here I thought we had something special, Romanov." Bruce startled when he heard Tony directly behind him. He looked over his shoulder to see Tony had one hand on the back of his chair and another perched on his hip as he leaned in a cool fashion. Steve was standing beside him, seeming a little wary of the situation all around. "Don't listen to her, Bruce," he then said as he sat down in the chair beside him, garnering a surprised look from both Natasha and Steve. "She's practically a spider. You should hear what they call her."

Bruce glanced at Natasha and thought he sensed uneasiness. But she also seemed trying not to let it show. Bruce was accustomed to that feeling. He suddenly worried that maybe Natasha was driving at an accurate point about Tony not being who he might think he is. Maybe Tony was just as mean as the rest. But that seemed so incongruous with the Tony he'd talked to so far. Then again, he himself could be mean too when he let himself be.

"I'd rather not hear what they call her," Bruce stated, looking down at his book with a frown. He sighed. "I'm not exactly a fan of name calling."

"Shit," he heard Tony mutter under his breath. He glanced sideways in Tony's direction, but he kept his eyes fixed on a spot on the table. More loudly Tony said, "Good point. Guess Natasha's not wrong. I'm a certified asshole. Sorry."

Bruce glanced up finally to see that Tony had directed that apology toward Natasha and she and Steve were both so stunned that they were looking at each other like they didn't know what to do with it. Steve tentatively sat down beside Natasha though and that forced them to look away from one another finally.

"Did you just get Tony to actually apologize to somebody?" Natasha looked at him and Bruce looked back. He felt sheepish, but couldn't fight the small, telling quirk of his lips.

"You know," Steve broke through his thoughts with a quick bite, "he's _not_ a bad guy, Natasha." Steve was looking at the redhead again, only sharply. "I get you have a problem with us, but you're wrong about Tony."

"So Tony _hasn't_ messed around with every girl in school while you meatheads cheered him on and other girls lined up for a chance?" Bruce's eyes widened and he felt his stomach sink a little. "Meanwhile a girl gets branded as some black widow all because—" She stopped abruptly and folded her arms. "You know what? I don't have time for this." She stood to her feet.

"Sit down, Miss Romanov," Mr. Selvig told her as he came into the room. She did so in a begrudging manner.

Bruce felt the tension at the table and looked around cautiously. He'd be lying though if he didn't let his eyes fall on Tony the longest until Tony met them with his own, something rueful lingering in them, before Bruce glanced away again like a child caught staring. Upon doing so he caught the sneering eyes of Loki instead, who was studying him like prey. Bruce fought back a sigh and looked back at Mr. Selvig.

The teacher was joined by two girls that Bruce had learned from his various AP courses were Jane Foster and Betty Ross. They were each writing on the chalkboard an equation that Bruce couldn't stop his brain from attempting to work out as each new variable was added.

"Alright, students," Mr. Selvig started speaking again. "As you can see, our co-captains of the Scholastic Decathlon team Miss Foster and Miss Ross are each writing a formula on the board. The first student who can successfully complete Jane's formula may leave detention. Everyone else, you are free to go as soon as you successfully complete Betty's, although any copying will be forfeited and you will get to spend the entire session in my company."

There were audible groans from nearly everyone in the room.

"Coach Ross is going to murder us," Steve mumbled.

"And while we have your attention," Jane said, turning from her formula and moving away from the chalkboard. "The Scholastic Decathlon team is always eager for new members. This is just some of what we do to represent the school in regional nerd meets as most of you like to call them. It's actually a lot of fun and we have semifinals coming up so if you want to get in on the competition, feel free to speak with myself or Betty."

Bruce looked at the board and then at Tony. Tony turned to look at him too with a look that seemed to say he should give the Decathlon a try. Then they both looked back at the board.

"3.43 to the 8th power is the only solution that makes sense," Tony said.

"But I think you meant pi," Bruce added so easily in conjunction that it took him a moment for him to realize what had just happened and that everyone was staring at him in disbelief. Or maybe they were staring at Tony. He turned to see Tony sitting there with wide eyes.

"Um…" Tony looked at him and then at Steve and Natasha. Bruce looked at Jane and Betty to see them looking at each other with eager disbelief. Mr. Selvig was studying the board.

"They're both right," Mr. Selvig finally said. "That should have been pi," he said going over to the board and erasing the erroneous constant. "And the answer is indeed 3.43 to the 8th power. I guess in favor of fairness," he said, turning and looking at them both carefully, "you both are free to go."

Tony shot up quickly and grabbed his things. "Cool," he said and exited with a more than a little kick to his steps.

"Thanks," Bruce added gratefully and followed after him, feeling the weight of the others' stares even as Mr. Selvig began encouraging everyone to get to work on Betty's equation. "I feel like I'm fleeing from a crime scene," Bruce said with a shake of his head when he found Tony waiting for him in the hall.

Tony let out a shaky laugh. "Yeah, like the weirdest Bonnie and Clyde imitation in history."

Bruce snorted in genuine amusement, but at the same time everything about it felt wrong. "What are you going to do?" He looked at his new… friend? partner-in-crime?... in concern.

Tony shrugged. "I don't know. Ignore it. Deflect. Blame it on illuminati. I usually think of something." Bruce nodded. It still felt wrong for some reason and a long look at Tony made him think maybe, just maybe, he thought the same. "And you? You just corrected one of the smartest girls in the state."

"You knew it was pi too if you solved it correctly," Bruce pointed out. He was beginning to wonder just how much of a brain Tony was trying to keep under wraps.

"Well, yeah," Tony said with a hopeless shrug.

"Don't worry about me," Bruce finally answered his question. "I'm used to this."

Tony frowned and they looked at each other long enough in silence that it became awkward. Finally, Tony said, "I… uh… I should probably get to practice since I don't have an excuse now."

"Right," Bruce said, pursing his lips. "I'll just…"

"See you tomorrow," Tony said it like it was a promise and then took off running down the hall.

"Tomorrow," Bruce said.

Well, one thing was for certain. Today had gone far differently than any other first day at a new school. For one thing, he had the urge to smile long after Tony had disappeared around a corner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. I love Steve, but fair warning now Steve does the misguided self-righteous kind of a dick trope in this for a bit (since he's the Chad of this story). Of course, Tony doesn't help matters by any means. Like, Tony was a certified ass prior to the start of this story (kind of like prior to Iron Man).  
> 2\. Mr. Selvig as Ms. Darbus... I just... I'm still kind of laughing about it because I think I kept imagining The Dark World!Selvig with him in the asylum schooling everybody.  
> 3\. Natasha isn't purposelessly antagonistic.


	3. What I've Been Looking For

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I've never had someone as good for me as you.

Tony was running on the treadmill, trying to sort through his feelings and get his head on straight when his dad found him. He kept his expression neutral, but his dad was the last person he wanted to see right now. He wanted to just run in peace, or if not peace he at least wanted solitude to focus on school, math, science, sports... Bruce.

He let out a huff of air and looked at his dad. Maybe the sooner he acknowledged him the sooner they could get this over with.

"I talked to Coach Ross today," Howard said. "He said some interesting things." Tony's eyes widened and he brought the treadmill to a stop.

"He did?" Tony wondered if it was to do with his speech in the locker room.

"He said he thinks you've got the potential to be made team captain next year," his dad said as Tony gulped his sports drink and toweled his sweat. "You're already the playmaker, so you know I thought you should have been captain this year. Not that Steve's not a good kid. Couldn't ask for better than him either," he said in a fond tone that Tony had to admit he sometimes resented. "But Ross seems to think you're distracted. Any reason why he'd say that?"

Tony rolled his eyes. "Maybe because he's a delusional blowhard?"

"Tony."

"Ms. Hill is a better coach than he is," Tony said, hoping that proved a point. He wasn't fond of Coach Hill in the least.

"Tony, he does what he needs to in order to keep you boys in shape."

"Whatever. He was probably just talking about this thing that happened in the locker room. I busted the other guys' chops for making fun of smart kids for no reason."

"Oh," Howard tone. For a minute a shadow crossed his dad's face and Tony thought it must be anger. It'd been a long time since Tony had expressed any interest in academics, but his dad might remember that one summer he'd cried to go to science camp and think this was like that; maybe in a way it was. "Well, then good for you." Tony was admittedly surprised. "Nobody likes a bully. And we're better than that. Sports is a physical science," he said.

"That's what I said," Tony chimed in, feeling a little startled by the turn of the conversation.

"And without research and development Stark Industries wouldn't be the leading sports brand in the nation."

"Exactly," Tony agreed eagerly. He didn't find creating innovations in sports equipment very interesting or worth his scientific pursuit, but it was at least _something_ to grasp onto if need be.

"I can see where he's coming from if he was worried you might lose your team's respect, but in this case you made a good call."

The word respect echoed harshly in Tony's ears and made him lose some of the inflated feeling that had been creeping over him. He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth for a moment and then decided to push his father's sudden amicability.

"Okay, but what if… What if I do something, like, I don't know," he waved his hand about animatedly, "something personal that _shouldn't_ be a big deal, but I lose my friends' respect anyways?"

Howard studied him for a moment and again a shadow passed across his face. "Then they're probably not your friends, Tony. But I hate to tell that it's something you're just going to have to get used to. And, you know, that's the thing about being a leader. As long as your head is in the game then they can either follow your plays or take a hike because they're the ones distracted."

Just like that, it felt like his father couldn't be any further away. Even when he was trying to help, there was a distance between them because Howard Stark was singularly-minded. He might tell Tony to do what he wanted, be a leader, but the expectations that were consistently implied and always hung over Tony's head told another story. Tony giving his attention even a little to anything other than sports or anything else Howard approved would nullify his dad's sentiment in a heartbeat. Because how could a good leader be anything, but dedicated twenty-four seven to the game? How could a good leader not fall in line with corporate America?

"So, this personal something... Sure it's not a personal _someone_?" Tony startled from his thoughts and Howard laughed. "What," he teased, "your old man remembers what it's like to be seventeen." For some reason that was hard to believe. "Sure, it's fun and easy to go from girl to girl," he said as Tony walked over and sat down on the nearby weight bench. "But maybe you're starting to think about what it'd be like to be a little more serious. Maybe you're starting to think of things you never thought about before." Tony looked up at his dad, wondering if he really understood. The way everyone talked, his dad had been a notorious player so it was hard to imagine him thinking seriously about anyone at his age. "And sure enough when you start thinking those things, some girl comes along who seems different than the others. Her eyes are the most beautiful you've ever seen. You'd do anything to make her smile. She makes you feel like nobody else ever has. She's special."

"Yeah?" Tony raised an eyebrow. His heart stuttered, but then the weight of his dad's words struck him.

"Yeah," Howard said before barking out a laugh. "And she'll break your damn heart and make you remember why love isn't worth it. At least not until you're a little older." Tony gave an answering chuckle for appearance sake even as he wanted to frown.

"But what if—" He stopped himself short and his dad studied him.

"What?" Howard prompted.

Tony almost wanted to ask. He almost wanted to take advantage of the easier than usual conversation he and his dad were having. Hell, his dad was so busy with the company he was rarely around for them to have this long of a conversation period. But he couldn't do it. This had been a nice heart-to-heart and he wasn't going to ruin it by pretending his dad would understand.

He shook his head. "Nothing I guess."

***

Bruce was startled slightly when he not only was greeted with a "Good morning" from Tony upon coming into homeroom, but when the boy let his gaze follow him as he pushed through the classroom and sat down in the same seat in the back as the day before. Tony continued to watch him and offered him an eager smile that Bruce couldn't ignore. He ducked his head for a second and then darted his eyes back up again, smiling in return.

"Good morning," he mouthed back. Tony seemed startled too, but then his smile widened.

The bell rang and Mr. Selvig wasted no time in launching into the announcements, but Tony didn't turn his gaze back to the front of the classroom.

"I hope most of you learned something yesterday."

"I'd say we certainly did," Loki drawled. Bruce glanced to see he was studying Tony.

"Now I know I've said this repeatedly over the past two months, but in case some of you weren't listening, and for the sake of our newest student, today is the final deadline for those interested in signing up for the regional science competition."

Bruce looked back at Tony who raised an eyebrow as if asking him if he was going to sign up. Bruce opened his mouth before he could even think of what he might say, but then closed it and gave a small shake of his head. Tony gave a single nod as if in understanding.

"All sign ups _must_ be accompanied by a proposed project or hypothesis you wish to explore," Selvig continued. "Don't worry yourselves into the grave about it as these projects are not set in stone if you change your mind later. But they do aid me in selecting which three students will represent the academy. I will be accepting sign-ups until the end of free period. I will make my final selections and have them posted by the beginning of lunch hour." He paused and when Bruce looked at him, he was eying both him and Tony. Bruce didn't like pressure from teachers, especially science teachers, so he felt his stomach churn. He glanced back at Tony to see that he'd noticed too. "I do hope to see some new faces at least make an effort this year to branch out and explore other domains of learning and life—"

The bell rang then for first period and everyone quickly rushed for the door. Everyone except Tony who waited for him. They walked out last, side by side.

"I mean that about new faces," Selvig called after them.

They stopped in the hall and looked at one another. Bruce studied Tony carefully for any sign that maybe he was thinking the same crazy thing he was. He wasn't sure why, but for some reason giving into the siren call of science seemed right so long as he was giving in alongside Tony. But Tony wasn't giving any sign that he could see.

"He doesn't understand," Bruce finally said with a huff of air that made his shoulders sag.

"No." Tony deflated too and... maybe he had been waiting for a sign from _him_? "He doesn't."

Bruce turned to head toward his locker and Tony followed. "Sure, it's... The idea's appealing," he admitted just in case Tony _was_ waiting for his thoughts on the matter.

"But it's just not that easy?"

Given the tone, Bruce wasn't sure who the question was directed at. He answered anyway with a sigh. "It's not. At least, not for me. I wish it were."

Tony grasped his arm and Bruce stopped and looked at him, his breath hitching a little at the intense focus in Tony's gaze. "Why isn't it?" Bruce furrowed his brow in silent question. "Why… Why aren't we allowed to be ourselves, huh? What did other people do to earn the right that we haven't?"

Bruce bit his lip and then looked around at the students passing them in the wide hall. Tony must have mistaken his sudden discomfort for something else because he let go. Bruce decided to continue on to his locker then and wondered if Tony would follow. He did.

"Maybe it's not about earning the right for some of us," he replied finally, falling back on his old excuses to guard himself from wanting something he couldn't have. He opened his locker and pulled out his science books and notebooks since that was his first couple of class blocks. "Maybe some of us lost it and don't deserve to have it back." He knew Tony had no way of understanding what he meant any more than Mr. Selvig. "I'm sorry," he apologized and that seemed to confuse Tony further. "I promised myself this semester I wouldn't focus on anything other than just getting through school. I'm already in AP classes so it's not like people don't already know I'm intelligent," he pointed out. "That's about all I can handle." He shut his locker and faced the other boy again.

Tony sighed as they began walking again. "Yeah. I… I don't really want to rock the boat," he said in a confessional tone. "High school's hard enough as it is. And I—" He stopped short and said, "Look out!" But before Bruce could he was knocked into harshly by Thor as the jock caught a football thrown at him by a kid Bruce knew was named Clint Barton.

All of his books and notebooks went flying and not unlike how they'd first met Bruce found himself on the ground, or in this case the less forgiving slab floor, with Tony. Unlike before, he was lying atop him and staring into wide brown eyes with his own. He felt frozen, unsure what to do, but then suddenly he was being rolled over so that their positions were reversed and his eyes widened all the more as Tony lingered, looking down at him, just a moment before pulling off and into a crouch. He looked around at the mess of school supplies and immediately began gathering them up while Bruce sat up, still feeling stunned.

"Don't just stand there," Tony said harshly, but not to him rather Thor and Clint who were watching them with dazed expressions. "You did this so help." That seemed to do the trick and they started gathering the loose papers that had flown around. "Are you okay, Bruce?" Tony asked once he had grabbed several things. They stood to their feet in sync and Tony studied him. "Thor can pack a punch so do you need to see the nurse?"

"I've…" Bruce felt his cheeks heat a little. "I've had worse," he said and then reached for the things Tony held. Tony frowned at his response, but only for a second when that thought was interrupted by Thor and Clint.

"What is this supposed to be anyway?" Clint asked, inspecting a drawing. Thor was looking at it over his shoulder and Tony craned his own neck to get a glimpse of it.

Bruce's eyes widened. "Oh, uh…" He glanced at the two boys and then at Tony who was now studying him. "It's, um," he reached for it and Clint wasn't mean enough to try and play keep away thankfully, "a sort of idea I had." He looked down at it and Tony looked too.

"Is that a filtration system of some kind?" he asked and Bruce looked back up at him. He then glanced at Clint and Thor to see their curious gazes, with a hint of scrutiny on Clint's part.

He nodded. "Yeah, for water. It's meant to be, um, portable and affordable. In theory," he added for good measure. He doubted it would ever actually work.

"That's—" Tony started, but was cut off by the sound of the warning bell. "That's our cue to get to class," he said, blinking as if broken from a reverie. "You sure you're okay?"

"I could ask you the same thing," Bruce pointed out. "You broke my fall."

"Ouch, now that you mention it…" Tony rubbed at his back melodramatically.

"Come on, Tony," Clint said with a roll of his eyes, and pulled Tony down the hall. "No way Ross is going to go easy on you."

Bruce looked back down at his design before shaking his head and hurrying to physics. He settled into his seat and pulled out his textbook. Most of the class was absorbed in conversation and if it were anything like the day before he'd be greatly ignored beyond the few that had at least said a friendly welcome before moving along. The teacher was preparing for the class by writing some physics equations on the board so he started work on them ahead of time as he usually did.

His invisibility was shattered though when Betty Ross slid into the seat on his one side and Jane Foster into the seat on his other. He blinked owlishly and looked back and forth between them. They each had uniquely bright smiles on their faces. Jane looked just this side of eager whereas Betty seemed to temper her own if it was shared.

He bit down on a sigh as he guessed why he was suddenly on their radar. "Um, hi," he said as friendly as he could manage before glancing back up at the board.

"I'll have you know," Jane initiated their side of the conversation, "I definitely knew it was pi. I just was in a hurry when I was writing out the problem."

"Okay," Bruce said with a hitch of his shoulder. That didn't seem to satisfy her. "Look, I believe you. I didn't…" He let go of the sigh he'd been holding in. "I didn't mean to call you out in front of everyone like that. It… It was just an automatic response."

"Oh, I know," Jane said in an easy manner.

"Don't be sorry," Betty chimed in and he glanced at her. Up close she reminded him of the way he always imagined his future wife would look. Long before his heteronormative childhood illusions were shattered. "If you hadn't then we wouldn't have known." Bruce tried not to frown, but he couldn’t help it. She noticed and asked, "Is that a problem?"

"Uh," he looked back and forth between them again, "maybe a little. I prefer to fly under the radar," he decided to be honest. Being honest had worked well with Tony so far. Maybe there was merit to it after all. "I just come to school, do my work, go home."

Betty looked a little confused, sad even, about that and then glanced past him at Jane. Jane, on the other hand, studied him.

"But you're obviously a genius," she said as the period bell rang. "And I should know because I am one. You don't just point out something like that and not be extremely intelligent. You shouldn't waste that kind of potential."

"Not that she's accusing you of wasting your potential," Betty interjected.

"Well, I kind of am," Jane countered. Bruce really hoped the teacher would start class soon. "Maybe you prefer to use your talent outside of school. That's reasonable. But we would really, really love to have you on our scholastic decathlon team."

"Last year," Betty said, "we lost horribly to the Westchester Wolverines. We're already short a person compared to their team and I was sick."

"In other words—" Jane started.

"Alright class," the teacher interrupted, "turn to page 198 in your text books."

"In other words, we got absolutely trampled," Jane finished in a hushed tone. "We could really use you for a fourth. No matter what the jocks think, the Westchester Wolverines are our rivals in more than just traditional sports."

Bruce furrowed his brow. He'd never been to a school that took rivalry with another school very seriously. Definitely not the way this one seemed to with Westchester

"Look," he said when he had the chance without interrupting anything too important, "I'm not interested in any extracurricular teams or clubs right now. Sorry."

"That's probably for the best," Loki practically hissed from the seat behind him. He turned to look at him. "It may be difficult for you to catch up with all of your AP classes and devote time to extracurricular activities that will do just fine without you regardless of what these two think." Loki gave him a false smile. "You should certainly consider your own good first."

Bruce pursed his lips and turned back around in his seat. As if Tony's urging wasn't enough, he had to admit that a small part of him wanted to put this Loki guy in his place. That, of course, would be the opposite of what he should do if he were being smart.

***

As often as Tony glanced around to make sure nobody was watching him or looking over his shoulder, one would think he was indulging in something of a pornographic nature. The benign fact of the matter: he was sitting in the library during free period sketching some of the many inventions and ideas he usually kept to himself at home. It really was like porn, he thought as he looked around yet again. He didn't need to look too hard at the notebook though. His hand knew how to rough out a blueprint like it was second nature. His brain could calculate hypothetical arcs and angles and dimensions and units and everything in between without too much effort. And just like porn the bliss of letting his mind have this was orgasmic.

"Tony, you in here?"

But also like porn, it was something that was implied should be indulged in privately and not out in the open like this because then someone might see and not everyone's reaction would be understanding. So at the sound of Steve's voice, Tony quickly scrambled to hide the evidence by flipping to an empty page and opening his math text book.

"Oh, hey, Steve." Tony looked up at his friend with a smile. He was dressed in his practice jersey and had a ball tucked under one arm.

"Did you forget about our plans to run some plays for the game Friday?"

Tony blinked. "Oh… Oh, yeah, guess I did. I'm just trying to get caught up on my homework."

Steve gave an incredulous chuckle. "Tony, it's the second day of the semester. Clint's not even behind on homework yet. And he was born behind. Besides, you rarely ever fall behind," he said with a narrowed gaze.

Tony chuckled nervously in response. "Well, yeah, but, uh… This is how you keep from getting behind," he tried again. "Thing is, I hate not having my evenings to myself, you know? So this was my number one resolution for the year. Try to be a little supportive?"

Steve frowned and then sighed. "Tony, I _am_ supportive. And I'm really starting to wonder why you're so convinced that I'm not. Fine," he gave in. "But if you're not at practice after school then we're going to have to reevaluate how to move forward as a team because obviously something's not working."

"Understood," Tony replied. "I'll be there. I wouldn't think of missing it."

"I'd like to believe that," Steve responded. "But, frankly, I'm not so sure if I do with the way you've been acting." He shook his head and left again.

Tony let out a sigh of relief and flipped back to the previous page in his notebook, but his face fell when his brain caught up to him. "What am I doing?" he mumbled the question and narrowed his eyes at the drawing. He ran a hand through his hair and then scrubbed it down his face to rest over his mouth. The previous thrill was gone, the fire doused. He was left cold and unsatisfied because he'd thought for a moment he could have pleasure only for him to be reminded that it wasn't the real thing. It was just a quickie to sate an itch.

Why had he been sketching his ideas out anyways? He knew where the itch had come from, but he couldn't have waited until he got home? Did he want to show them to Bruce? Or was that only part of it?

Tony glanced at his watch. Free period was almost over. His itch wasn't sated and curiosity was just too strong. He quickly grabbed his things and darted out of the library. He glanced around the hall to see if anyone was watching and then hurried toward Mr. Selvig's classroom. As he flew around a corner he ran into someone, though thankfully not forcefully enough for it to be a real collision. They both just faltered back a little until they could steady themselves.

"I'm really starting to get tired of that," he heard Bruce grumble before his eyes focused enough to realize it was him.

"Maybe it's fate's way of telling us something," Tony responded and Bruce blinked as if just realizing too.

"Well if it's all the same to fate," Bruce replied, adjusting his glasses, "there are less painful ways of making a point." He finally met his eyes more steadily and gave a crooked smile and shake of his head.

Tony's heart stuttered. Who was this guy that had been thrown into his life – and into him quite literally, he mused –  only to make him want to strut like a peacock in the ways he wanted to and not just the ways he was expected to? What made his brown eyes different than anyone else's? What made that crooked smile make him want to find a way to keep it there?

Tony glanced down and saw an open notebook with a sketching on it, not the same from that morning, in Bruce's hand. It broke him from his spiraling thoughts and he flicked his eyes back to Bruce's face.

"Wait, were you just coming from Mr. Selvig's class?"

"I..." Bruce looked flustered, but then narrowed his eyes. "Were you just going to Mr. Selvig's class?"

"Uh…"

They looked at one another for a long minute, but then slowly they both started to titter, which turned into snickering, then chuckling, until finally they were both laughing over the situation. It felt easy and right and liberating laughing with him like this.

"I didn't go in," Bruce said with a shake of his head between laughs.

"I was just going to hurry by," Tony admitted and they began laughing even more uncontrollably.

"Oh god," Bruce gave a long sigh as they wound back down, "what's wrong with us, Tony?"

"We're tiptoeing," Tony answered instinctively, yearning to fix this. He wanted to fix this for himself, for Bruce, for them both. Every smile, every laugh, every minute spent with Bruce only made the yearning stronger and now he couldn't ignore it anymore. Maybe this was what his dad had meant. Maybe this was what made Bruce different. He'd been looking for someone like Bruce his whole life and he didn't even know it. "We've been tiptoeing, Bruce," he repeated. "And I think it's time for us to strut."

Bruce's eyes widened as Tony moved past him. "Tony?" Bruce followed him. "Tony, are you sure? Really sure about this?"

"I am," Tony said with a surge of confidence.

It was dashed when the bell rang just as they reached the door of Selvig's room. Mr. Selvig looked up at them from his desk with a shrewd expression.

"Deadlines are important in many parts of the scientific community, gentlemen," Selvig said, standing to his feet.

"I know, but—" Tony started, stealing Bruce's notebook and moving into the room.

"The deadline was the end of free period. You had your chance, Mr. Stark. Ultimately, you made your decision by not taking the deadline seriously."

Tony scowled and looked down at Bruce's open notebook. He then carefully held it open and began flipping through it. It was filled with page after page of designs. Had he done all of these today? He looked over his shoulder to see Bruce clearly embarrassed by his actions, or maybe Selvig's berating them. He then looked back at the notebook before looking up at Mr. Selvig determinedly.

"Look, I know, but Bruce here is brilliant." He held up the notebook in supplication. "You have to at least take a look at his stuff. It would be a crime if you didn't."

"Tony," Bruce suddenly was at his side, protesting. "I'm not doing the science competition if you don't," he said and Tony blinked. "You're the only reason I considered it in the first place." He then looked at Mr. Selvig. " _He's_ the one you should be paying attention to. Not me."

"And you think _I'd_ do this without _you_?" Tony flipped the argument.

"Gentlemen," Mr. Selvig interrupted and they both looked at him. That's when he realized the teacher had commandeered the notebook from his hand and was studying it. Selvig then looked up. "The rules behoove me to say that I can't fairly consider either of you over those that met the deadline."

"I understand," Bruce replied in a low tone.

"But," Selvig glanced down at the notebook before handing it back to Bruce, "the competition has a category exclusive to partnered entries."

Tony's eyebrows shot up. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying, Mr. Stark, that S.H.I.E.L.D. Academy has never been represented by an entry in this category. That could change this year if the two of you are willing to work together on an entry for the competition." Tony looked at Bruce and Bruce turned his head to look at him. "Nobody has every expressed interest in a joint venture, but something tells me you two might just have the makings of successful scientific partnership if you give it a chance."

"We can still say no," Tony offered Bruce, but even though those long held fears still screamed in his head that this was a brash idea there was another voice, a little quieter, saying they both needed this. "Your resolution—"

"Was for something new," Bruce interjected with a thoughtful expression. "After we went back to my room and my aunt asked me, I told her my resolution was to try and find something new to try." He looked back at Mr. Selvig. "I'm okay with that if Tony is."

Tony beamed and felt an orgasmic-like bliss return, only stronger. "I'm okay with it too," he said quickly.

Mr. Selvig glanced back and forth between them, a smile spreading across his face. "Alright then. But I do still expect a submission of a project idea on my desk no later than the end of the day on Friday. Understood? I reserve the right to change my mind," he said and sat back down. He started writing them hall passes since the bell was about to ring again in warning. "That goes double for you, Mr. Stark." Tony furrowed his brow. "Dedication is also important in the scientific community. I realize you are a very busy student, but if you're to represent this school in the competition and be a good partner to Mr. Banner here, you'll need to make sure you have the time to dedicate to this."

Tony felt the bliss shatter slightly. Dedication? His team needed him, but so did Bruce. He needed to have his head in the game, but how could he when he was trying to play two different games on the same court?


	4. Stick to the Status Quo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Don't mess with the flow, no, no.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for the homophobia in this story. It amps up a little bit with Ross showing up again and being disgusting.

Bruce left his AP Trigonometry class with a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach. He hadn't spoken with Tony since their impulsive decision during free period, but he was going to have lunch with him today. Part of him wondered if he'd get there and discover Tony had changed his mind. Part of him wondered if he'd get there and tell Tony _he_ had changed his mind.

He hadn't, surprisingly. He still felt a foreign thrill at the thought of working with Tony. But for every fantastical thought he had, there was another one right behind it. Words, memories, reminders of why he was afraid to pursue science. Tony said they should strut, but strutting wasn't in his nature or at least not without consequence when he acted on those impulses.

And all of that didn't even take into account the other thrill and fear both he had at the thought of working with Tony...

He paused in his trek to the cafeteria when he realized everyone was staring at him as he walked down the hall. Suddenly, he was practically assaulted by Darcy.

"Oh, _my_ gosh," she said with eager, wide eyes. "You are such an inspiration." He furrowed his brow. "You haven't even been here two full days and you're already super tight with Tony Stark. It's like you've already done what all of us have tried and failed to do."

"Interesting thing that," Natasha interjected and Bruce transferred his confused gaze to her as Darcy clamored off. She was studying him with one brow furrowed and the other raised.

"I really wish I knew what was going on," Bruce said, even as he was beginning to get several ideas. He glanced around as they both started walking toward the cafeteria. "I really, really don't like having people stare at me like this." It made him want to run away.

"Maybe you should have considered that before smashing the class structure here at S.H.I.E.L.D.," was Natasha's response.

"Oh no," Bruce muttered, suddenly remembering that Mr. Selvig said he would post the science competition's selected representatives.

"Seems you bring out all sorts of interesting sides to Stark's personality," Natasha commented as they entered the cafeteria. Bruce's eyes immediately zeroed in on Tony, who seemed to be in a discussion with his team, particularly Steve. "This should be good," Natasha said with a smirk and without qualm walked over to them to spy on the discussion. Of course, she didn't go unnoticed.

"This doesn't concern you," Bruce heard Steve say as he cautiously approached.

"In case you haven't heard, Rogers," Natasha said easily, "it's a free country." For some reason that made him dart his eyes away in an uneasy fashion as his jaw tensed. "In fact, lots of things are legal these days. Isn't that right, Stark?" Bruce glanced at Tony to see his intense frown at the girl. "Are you just exercising your legal right to shake things up?"

"You heard, Steve," Tony clipped. "This doesn't concern you."

"But it does concern you," Steve said, turning his head in Bruce's direction.

"I... Um, I..." He stammered. "Look, I just want to—"

"Back off, Steve," Tony intervened.

"That's how you're gonna play it?" Steve turned his scowl towards his friend. "New guy comes along and suddenly we're not good enough for you anymore?" He gestured to himself and then to the other guys sitting and standing around the table.

"The _hell_ are you talking about?"

"Obviously Rogers is jealous," Natasha supplied unhelpfully, her lips quirking upward. "What's wrong, Steve? Do you have a crush on your friend?"

"Stay out of this," Tony and Steve bellowed at her in sync.

Bruce sighed. "Please, Natasha. This is already complicated enough as it is." He glanced at Tony to let him know he meant that as much a statement for him as Natasha.

Tony immediately understood and focused all of his attention on him. "Hey, look... No, no, it's not," he insisted.

"It's at least a little complicated, Tony," Bruce argued.

"Maybe a little," he conceded with a sigh. "But only," he looked back at his friends, "because they're making it that way."

"We're _not_ making it that way," Steve countered. "It just _is_ that way."

"For once he says something smart," Loki interjected then, his eyes fixed hard on Bruce and Tony.

"Loki, don't start," Thor spoke up.

"Why? I'm only saying your little group of friends has every right to be upset with Tony for upsetting the natural order of things."

"Oh, please," Natasha replied with a roll of her eyes. "The only natural order you care about is the one where you rule the world and the rest of us peasants do your bidding." Loki narrowed his eyes at her in a way that suggested to Bruce her estimate might not be entirely untrue.

"You know what?" Clint suddenly interrupted. "I have a confession." They all looked at him. "I've been thinking about this since what you said in the locker room yesterday, Tony." Bruce spared a curious glance at Tony. "The thing about having other passions? Well, I do. I, uh, love to cook."

"You what?" Loki was the one to respond to that first, incredulity in his voice.

"You do?" Tony questioned more kindly. "You've been holding out on us, Barton," he then said with an eager smile that made Bruce feel a little better about the entire situation somehow.

"Well, actually," Clint shrugged, "you know those cakes and things my foster mom makes for the team?" The entire team nodded, pleasant expressions on their faces as they recalled it and Bruce studied Clint to see the quick smile before his face went neutral again. "She doesn't make them. I do."

Everybody looked stunned. "Seriously?" Steve asked.

"Those are really good, Clint," Tony responded. Clint shrugged again. "Seriously, if I could cook like _that_... I probably still wouldn't, but you know," he finished with a joke.

"Yeah, well, I learned when I was little and had to feed myself because my parents and older brother weren't going to." Bruce tried not to frown at Clint's story. "But now I just really enjoy it."

"I have a secret too," Thor said next. "I am quite fond of stargazing."

"This is absurd," Loki muttered.

"Okay?" Steve looked at Thor curiously.

"I don't work at the Y!," he continued. "I actually work at the observatory at Empire State University."

"Mr. Selvig's part time job?" Loki looked surprised. "And doesn't Jane work there?" Thor smiled brightly. "Oh, dear lord," he grumbled. "This is _too_ absurd." He stalked off.

"Are you dating her?" Steve cut in.

"Well, no, but I was thinking of asking her to the game and—"

"We've all discussed this," Steve said with a sigh. He seemed to glance particularly at Tony. "Relationships are already a distraction without bringing new relationships into this. Can't you wait until after the season?"

"Wow," Natasha said to that. "Aren't you just a fun, little cock block."

Suddenly Bruce felt a hand on his wrist. He looked down at it, somehow already recognizing whose hand it was, before looking up and meeting Tony's gaze. Tony darted his eyes toward the group, now _really_ arguing, and then past them where others had approached the scene and seemed to have started confessing things too – apparently Betty was a Tolkienite and Jane loved to dance, especially ballet. Then Tony beckoned with his head for him to follow and so Bruce did.

"Where are we going?" Bruce asked with a chuckle since Tony seemed absolutely giddy.

"Does it matter as long as it's anywhere but back there?" Tony dodged the question as he led him into a dubious staircase.

"Depends," Bruce replied. "This seems suspect. Are you trying to—" He stopped short when Tony held open a door. Behind it was another set of stairs that led up and out onto the roof where there was a makeshift greenhouse. "Wow." He looked at Tony to see him smiling as he nodded in agreement.

"Courtesy of the Botany Club," Tony said, lifting his hands up in show. Bruce smiled as he went to touch a flower. "Uh, but, don't touch anything," Tony stopped him quickly. "Sorry, it's just, Maya Hansen has a fit if you touch any of them. She's the head of the club."

"Ah," Bruce nodded, "okay." He didn't have any classes with her, but he'd heard her name mentioned a few times so he backed away from the plant. "Well, I can't blame her. It's nice."

"And the best part is none of my friends have any clue it's even here," Tony said with a smirk.

Bruce ducked his head and then shook it before moving to sit on a bench in the small space. "Well, you never know. Apparently you're associating with bakers and astronomers. There might be a botanist hiding in there somewhere." He gave Tony a wry look and the other boy barked in laughter before coming over to sit beside him.

"Well, we can rule out Steve," he said. "The only other thing pumping through his veins is good old fashioned adoration for the stars and stripes."

"Sorry," Bruce apologized and Tony turned his head to look at him strangely. "Steve's your best friend and I feel like… maybe if you hadn't met me—"

Tony held up his hand. "Okay, one, my best friend doesn't go here. He's a military brat. Name's Rhodey. And, two, me and Steve have always had a healthy amount of animosity in our bromance." He shrugged. Then he looked at him intensely. "But most of all I don't want an apology for having met you. If Steve or anyone else has a problem with it, well, then maybe they're not my friends," he said like he'd pulled that thought from somewhere distant.

Bruce sighed. He knew what he should say to that, but instead he let his emotions win out. "Do you remember the first day of kindergarten? Do you remember that feeling of not knowing what would happen? It was something new and a little terrifying? But at the same time it was like a whole new world was opening up to you?"

"Sure."

Bruce could still remember his mother kissing him tenderly at drop-off and telling him not to be afraid because he'd make so many friends who would love him. That hadn't happened, but he could still remember the longing. He could still remember how he'd spent the nights before school started imagining what his best friend would be like. Tony felt a lot like everything he'd wished for.

He took a breath and admitted, "When I'm with you, I feel like that."

"I do too," Tony said in an earnest tone. "That's why I don't care about what happened in the cafeteria. I don't want to lose this feeling."

Bruce felt the last of his guard fall in surrender. "I don't either."

"So," Tony said after a moment. "I have practice after school, but since we need to agree on a project, do you, uh… Do you want to come chill at my place after that? Or we could go to your place," he added quickly.

"Well, I was thinking about giving into peer pressure and checking out the scholastic decathlon team," Bruce told him with a small sigh. But then it turned into a small smile. "So, your place?"

Tony's answering smile was anything but small and Bruce hoped he didn't mess this up somehow.

***

Tony was the last into the locker room for practice and he found Steve still there, the expression on his face a dead giveaway that he'd been waiting. He did the mature thing and completely ignored him as he pulled off his shirt and opened his locker.

"So it begins," Steve said. Tony threw him a confused look. "You're never this late to practice. You're usually the first one in and the first one out on the court."

"Maybe being in a locker room full of guys makes me uncomfortable," Tony quipped. He figured he might as well if Steve knew the truth. He looked at Steve again to see his unimpressed scowl. He rolled his eyes. "I had to talk to Bruce about our project. Which clearly is a non-issue. I'm still here, aren't I? I'm not ditching or whatever it is you seem to think will happen just because I'm—"

"You're what?" Steve pressed. "Enlighten me, Tony. What is it about this curly haired genius boy that has you so over the moon that you're willing to… what? Pretend you're good at science just to spend time with him? Is that what your angle is? Because I don't get it. I might not like it, but at least Thor's tactic of inviting Jane to a game makes more sense." Steve looked at him dubiously.

Tony sighed as he sat down on the bench and laced up his shoes. "How do you know I'm pretending?"

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about," he finished and stood, turning to face Steve, "how nobody knows the real me and I'm sick of it. And maybe that's my fault for pretending before, but I'm not anymore. Bruce deserves credit, not blame."

"Oh come on, Tony. You're talking like some melodramatic teen movie. You're crazy about him and it's got you seeing things that aren't there. It's cool that he's smart. And if it turns out brainy guys are your type, that's fine—"

"He's also gorgeous," Tony interjected.

"I'll take your word for it," Steve said with a shrug. "But, Tony, you don't have to change who you are just because you're interested in him."

Tony's frustration escaped with a groan and he slammed his locker shut. "You don't get it, do you?" Steve's eyes were wide from his outburst. "I'm not just Tony Stark the athlete. Do you remember when Principal Fury made me take the placement tests a second time at the start of freshmen year?" Steve nodded. "That's because I took the tests on autopilot the first time and basically tested out."

"Of ninth grade?"

"Of _high school_ ," Tony answered. "My dad didn't believe him. Swore there had to be some kind of mistake. Said I'm smart, but not that smart. Mostly I think he was just freaked by the idea of me not being able to play high school sports and make a name for myself and the company." He shook his head. "So Fury let me test again. And I purposely answered stuff wrong so that they thought it was a fluke in the system the first time."

There was a long awkward silence.

"You're serious?" Steve finally asked. "But… why?"

"I chose sports, that's why. For the same damn reason I used to let just about every girl in school—" Steve frowned and Tony decided not to finish that statement. "The world doesn't want Tony Stark the gay genius boy. And obviously my team doesn't either."

"Tony, that's not…" Steve let his sentence trail and huffed.

"What? Can't tell a lie? Face facts, Steve. All anyone in my life cares about is the game. The damn status quo. But you know what? I'm starting to regret my choice. I'm starting to think I'm better off with people who care about more than just sports and just want me to be who I want to be." He glanced at his watch. "And for the record, you're the one making us miss out on practice." He shook his head and left Steve to stew over the conversation.

***

As the decathlon meeting wound down, Bruce was surprised to admit that he'd actually enjoyed himself. Even with Loki's occasional sneer in his direction, it was nice to be in a room with others who weren't ashamed to show off their intellect and have fun with it. They all had a certain amount of pride in their IQs that Bruce had only once before allowed himself to feel. Of course, it had blown up in his face then.

"We're so glad you decided to join us, Bruce," Jane said with a smile as she and Betty came over to him at the end. "Aren't we everyone?"

Everyone agreed, only Loki did so with a condescending, "Oh yes. Certainly."

"Ignore him," Jane said with an eye roll. "But seriously, Bruce. You really are like a genius. More than me even."

"How come you haven't graduated from college with a doctorate's already?" Betty asked in a playful tone.

"Uh…" Bruce blinked at the question. "I guess because I've never really considered it. I'm smart, but… I don't know about genius. And I usually don't do more than dabble in this kind of thing in my spare time."

"Seems hard to believe for the boy who convinced Tony Stark to be his gopher just to have a chance in the science competition," Loki said snidely.

Bruce counted to ten and then said patiently, "For all you know, Loki it could be the other way around." Then the patience evaporated. "And I really wasn’t aware this school had some kind of closed-door policy on who could do what. How very cliché."

"I agree," Betty said. "I think it's great that Tony is doing something new. It's inspiring."

"Ugh," Loki said in disgust, "you sound like Darcy. Everyone is this stupid school is already in love with Stark. Now he's after the ones that are supposed to have brains. As if it wasn't bad enough that everyone in the drama club wanted to nominate him for the role of prince charming without his even auditioning. Next thing you know he'll join debate, stand up and flash a peace sign, and the competition will just forfeit."

Bruce frowned. "So he's popular. Some people actually deserve it."

Loki looked at him slyly. "Is that an objective statement or has S.H.I.E.L.D.'s golden son got your heart all a pitter-patter?"

Bruce's stomach fell. It was probably obvious to everyone. A violent desire to let things escalate between him and Loki surged through Bruce's veins just then so he decided to take a deep breath and go meet up with Tony.

"Loki, stop being a jerk," he heard Betty say as he left the room.

Bruce made his way to the gym and was surprised to find Tony alone shooting free throws. He sunk one in so Bruce gave a slow clap. Tony grabbed the rebounding ball and paused to look at him..

"How was the nerd meeting?" Tony asked him with a smirk.

"I'd tell you, but rule one forbids it," Bruce answered as he approached. "How was the homo neanderthalensis meeting?"

"Oh ho," Tony barked out in amusement. "Curly hair boy use big words. Cave Tony am not understanding." Bruce laughed and shook his head. "Hey, Brucey," Tony said then, "think fast."

Bruce barely had time to blink before the basketball was lobbed at him. His hands went up instinctively and he caught it. "You jerk," he said, though not really meaning it. "It's a good thing I have good reflexes. If you would have broken my glasses you would have seen angry Bruce and I promise you angry Bruce is not somebody you'd like."

"Okay you realize now I just really, really want to see angry Bruce," Tony said with a flippant smirk. "Something tells me he's still really adorable."

Bruce huffed and started dribbling the ball. He took a shot only for it to hit the rim and fly back. Tony caught it gracefully. Bruce scrubbed his face and looked at Tony who was snickering at him.

"And that was completely terrible," Bruce mused as Tony showed off, sinking another shot.

"Here," Tony said when he collected the ball, "try again." Bruce took the ball dubiously and set himself up to take the shot. "The homo neanderthalensis predicts that with your current gait, stance and angle you're likely to hit the top left hand corner of the backboard.

"Oh yeah?" Bruce challenged and then sent the ball toward the basket again… only for it to hit the top left hand corner of the backboard.

"Oh yeah," Tony said cheekily before going to get the ball again. "Sports is a science."

"I know," Bruce replied. "It's just not one I typically apply."

"Alright," Tony came back over, "then how about a quick tutor session." Tony tossed him the ball again and Bruce lifted one eyebrow. "Take a stance." Bruce shrugged and then did so, attempting to calculate a better one this time. "Better," Tony affirmed before walking over to him.

"What are you doing?" Bruce asked, trying to mask his sudden nervousness at the prospect of Tony getting handsy.

"Just making a few adjustments to the equation." He proceeded to realign his arms and then stood behind him and grabbed them gently. He guided him in the arc he should take a few times. "Now try that." He let go and Bruce mimicked the movement, sending the ball flying through the air and into the net.

He turned and looked at Tony a little surprised. But that surprise turned to something more problematic when he realized just how close the other boy was. He'd wanted to kiss him that night at the lodge and now being around him more and getting to know him better only made the feeling stronger. But he couldn't let himself mess this up so he broke his trance and went to get the ball.

"Now that you've taught me the secret, I'm going to school you," he teased.

"I taught you _one_ secret," Tony corrected with a laugh and lunged for the ball to steal it. Bruce dodged and mimicked keeping the ball away, knowing full well it wasn't how you played the game for real. "That's traveling," Tony pointed out, coming around the back side of him, trying to steal the ball again. Bruce continued to travel. "No, that's really _bad_ traveling," Tony said with a laugh as he tried to wrap his arms around to get the ball, but ended up giving up and picking Bruce up along with it.

"Foul!" Bruce shouted, laughing and secretly reveling in the feeling of Tony's arms around him.

"Son, this is a closed practice," an angry voice bellowed, quieting their laughter. Tony spun them around and set him down.

"Coach, practice is over," Tony protested.

The coach walked over and gave Bruce a dirty look. It was the kind of look that reminded him of his father. It was the kind of look that saw every secret Bruce tried to hide and shamed him for it.

"Not until every player has left the court," the coach countered, looking at Tony then. "You know the rules."

"I'm sorry, sir," Bruce apologized as calmly as he could and made a beeline for the exit.

"Bruce, wait," Tony called after him.

"Get your head in the game, Stark," the coach barked at him and Bruce felt his blood run cold. "That kind of boy does not belong on this court. And you—"

"That kind of boy?" Tony balked. "What's that supposed to mean, coach?"

"He means I'm gay, Tony," Bruce said, ripping off the band aid. Rather him than letting the coach do it. He turned back cautiously to see Tony's reaction. His eyes were wide and Bruce's stomach sank. "And he's right," he admitted. "I… I'm just going to leave. I'm sorry."

"Sorry for what?" Tony asked before he could. "And what the hell?" He looked at the coach. "You think gay people can't play basketball? Seriously? You know what," Tony shook his head, "the last player is leaving the court now. It's too homophobic for his delicate sensibilities."

"You're… not…" Bruce stammered as Tony led him toward the locker room. "You're not upset?"

"Hell no," Tony answered sharply, but then stopped and studied him. "Did you really think I'd stop being your friend just because you're gay?"

"It…" Bruce sighed. "It crossed my mind, yes."

Something strange flickered across Tony's face and then his hands were on Bruce's shoulders. "I assure you, I would never in a million years do that. In fact," he smiled brightly, "I'm more than okay with your orientation." His hands dropped. "I'll just be a minute to change. You're free to watch if you want," he said with a wink just shy of flirtatious.

"Haha," Bruce deadpanned. "Go on," he shooed him away. Then he sighed in relief.

***

"Home sweet home," Tony said as he led Bruce into his house.

Bruce looked around, a dumbstruck look on his face. "Um, not gonna lie. I would have said my house if I'd known you live in a mansion."

Tony laughed and felt a little of his nervousness uncoil. "You know, most people say the opposite."

Bruce turned and looked at him with raised brows and a thin, wry smile before melodramatically fluttering his eyelashes. "And what makes you think I'm like other boys?" Before Tony could respond, Bruce grimaced, went flush and ducked his head quickly. "Oh god, that was—" He lifted a hand to his face and shook his head. "That was embarrassing. I don't know why I did that. I made it awkward. Just… forget I did that." He gave a nervous chuckle.

Tony couldn't resist, especially not now that he knew for certain about Bruce. He moved in a little closer and said in a hushed voice, "And what makes you think I didn't like it?" Bruce's eyes widened and his hand fell. He looked at him in disbelief as Tony took a step back. "Now it's sufficiently awkward," he said with a smirk.

"Tony, is that you?" His mom interrupted before he could regret the move.

"Yeah, mom," he called back.

"Somebody with you?"

Tony sighed. "That's her way of saying, come to me because I'm not coming to you," he explained quickly and led Bruce to the lounge his mother usually occupied when she wasn't working. Which was often since she didn't need to. Officially, though, she was a lifestyle blogger and full time philanthropist. "Hi, mom," he said when he came into the lounge and saw her with her tablet on her lap and the television tuned to some shopping network or another. "Busy day?"

"Yes," she said with an exhausted sigh. "Traffic on the site is worryingly down compared to this time last year. I should call your little friend, Pepper. She was always very keen on this sort of thing. Such a nice girl—"

"Mom," Tony bit back a groan and glanced at Bruce from the corner of his eye. "Not now. I know Pepper's a nice girl, but we're just friends. _Remember_?" 

"Yes, yes, of course," his mother said with a wave of her hand before setting down the tablet finally and noticing Bruce. "Oh. But who's your new friend, Tony?" She glanced back and forth between them as she stood to her feet. She wore a tight smile that seemed to ask more than that. He held back another groan.

"This is my friend, Bruce Banner." He looked at Bruce. "Bruce, this is my mother."

"I gathered as much," Bruce said with a nervous chuckle. "It's nice to meet you, Mrs. Stark."

"Oh, please, none of that. Like I tell all of Tony's friends, you can just call me Maria."

"Okay…" Bruce glanced at Tony with a hint of discomfort and back again. "Um, nice to meet you, Maria."

Tony's eyes widened – none of his other friends took his mom seriously when she said that – and he looked at his mom to see her tight smile become wide and genuine. "It's wonderful to meet you too, Bruce." She then furrowed her brow and looked at Tony. "Didn't you say you hung out with a boy named Bruce at the lodge, Tony?"

Tony gaped at her. "You remember me saying that?" 

"Of course," she said. "I wasn't that sloshed, sweetheart. Nowhere near your father's level."

Bruce flinched and took several steps backward until he was practically hiding behind Tony rather than standing beside him again. "Um… maybe we should…"

Tony hadn't seen him look this way since the first night they'd met, when he'd shrunken in on himself. Tony closed his eyes tight recalling his theory that Bruce had maybe been beaten at some point. Maybe by a drunken parent?

"Uh, yeah," Tony said quickly and pointed back toward the staircase they'd passed. "Up the stairs and third door on your right. Really can't miss it. I'll be right up." Bruce nodded and gave him a grateful look before politely excusing himself.

"A little skiddish," Maria Stark assessed once he was gone, "but he's quite adorable, Tony. _Is_ he the boy from the lodge?"

"Yeah," Tony answered. His mom might not be perfect, but at least he had an ally regardless of her disappointment that he couldn't have at least made an effort to go for Pepper Potts. As a lifestyle blogger and philanthropist, part of him wondered if in spite of the Pepper thing she wasn't a bit _pleased_ that her son had turned out to be gay. "He and his aunt just moved here for her job and now he's going to S.H.I.E.L.D. Crazy right?" He finally looked back at his mom, having been looking in the direction Bruce had gone, and saw her studying him. "What?"

"Not that I've ever minded, dear," she started, "but I have wondered a little at your genuinely liking boys from time to time. I've never seen you look at any of the boys in your school or on your team the way you were looking at Bruce just now."

"That's because he's different. Special," Tony said with a half-smile. "Objectively all of my friends are hot, mom. I've never thought otherwise. But I've never thought of them as anything more than that. Bruce is…" He ducked his head and smiled, overwhelmed. "He's not just attractive. He's… He's… I don’t even know how to put it into words," he said in frustration. "And I don't know what to do with it either," he admitted. "I know Steve knows." She raised an eyebrow. "And I don't want to do the closet thing. I really don't." He'd done a spectacular job of trying to prove his heterosexuality in freshman year and he never wanted to go back, but he obviously still wasn't out either. He sighed. "But…"

"The answer will come to you," Maria assured.

"Thanks." He meant it.

"Now don't keep him waiting or he's liable to think you're avoiding him and run off," she teased. "And no funny business okay?"

"With you here and dad coming and going whenever he feels like it?" Tony raised an incredulous brow. "That would be a definite ew, never going to happen."

"Right," his mother said sitting back down on the couch. "Because raging hormones are definitely considerate like that."

Tony chuckled. As he left the lounge and headed for his room, he couldn't but feel a little disappointed that he and his mother didn't have more time to spend together just the two of them. School, sports and other teenage proclivities dominated most of his time.

"Was it really obvious?" Bruce asked when Tony reached his room. He looked dejected and Tony didn't like seeing him that way.

"Not really," he assured. "My mom had no clue. And I've just seen it enough that I had suspicions." Bruce didn't look at him. "But something tells me," Tony tried a different tactic, "you really don't want to focus on that or talk about it, right?" It worked and Bruce looked at him hopefully. "So let's not. Your terms if or when you ever want to." He strolled over to his closet and turned to face Bruce with a smile. "So instead let me introduce you to my closet. Not a gay joke, by the way."

Bruce blinked several times before visibly relaxing. He chuckled as he came over to him. "Almost a pity since that was a pretty good opening."

"Well, not everyone has your sense of humor." Tony led him into his massive closet. "One of the perks of living in a mansion is you can quite literally keep your hobbies in the closet."

"Oh wow," Bruce said in awe. "You really do dabble." He looked around at the space that was littered with blueprints and tools and wires mostly. "You favor engineering?" he guessed.

"Yeah."

"Huh. Maybe Mr. Selvig was right." Bruce moved to look at some of the sketches laying on a work bench. "I'm more comfortable with physics and theory."

"Perfect team," Tony finished in understanding. Bruce glanced at him over his shoulder with a smile and then looked back down.

"You have so many great ideas here. And not to judge the boy by his house, but I'm assuming you have the resources to make at least some of these happen already. Like this robot—"

"That's actually a prototype 2.0 of a robot I made in kindergarten. Obviously it wasn't that complex, but—"

"Kindergarten?" Bruce looked at him with wide eyes as he came to stand beside him at the table.

"Yeah. My teacher wanted to recommend me for some science camp for kids that summer, but I had little league and soccer so there wasn't time. And dad said there were plenty of other future scientists running around, you have to be smarter than smart to make it in science, and sports is what makes sense for a Stark kid."

"Dime a dozen," Bruce echoed the sentiment Tony had shared at the lodge, letting him know that he understood. "Your dad must really be obsessed with sports," he then commented as he picked up a blueprint and started inspecting it earnestly. Tony's eyes widened when he realized which one it was, but then he narrowed them.

"Well, yeah, it's kind of a prerequisite of being a Stark. The company probably wouldn't be what it is without the obsession."

"The company?" Bruce echoed, not looking up from his study.

"You really don't know?" Tony almost couldn't believe it. He'd thought it had been obvious from the get go, but that Bruce just hadn't made a big deal out of it like everyone else. Bruce did look up at him then, confusion etched on his face. "You've never heard of Stark sports equipment?"

Bruce's face scrunched as if pondering the question, but then his features slowly widened. "Oh! Oh, you mean? You're that Stark? I was wondering why all of your stuff in your room had your name on it like a brand... I... I honestly forgot Stark Industries is a thing. No offense," he added quickly.

"I'm not offended," Tony said, perhaps a little too eagerly. "I'm... No, I'm not offended. In fact, it's nice. But, now you can understand my dilemma. My dad expects me to breathe sports. Either I get lucky and go pro or I can be phased in as the next generation of the company, which is likely to happen regardless."

"That's a shame," Bruce said after a moment and then held up the blueprint. "Because something tells me you could change the world if you had the chance." Tony's eyes widened and he stared for a long moment at Bruce as his stomach said to hell with flipping and decided to just do a full gymnastics routine. He wanted to... "This is a hypothetical miniaturized arc reactor, right?"

Tony blinked and then looked down at the design. "Yeah."

"I think we should submit this to Mr. Selvig."

Tony blinked again. "We haven't even looked at your ideas yet."

Bruce set down the blueprint and moved away. "I, um, I'd feel more comfortable if we worked on one of your ideas," he said, his voice suddenly timid. "I don't know... if I could go through with this if... we did one of mine."

Tony bit his lip. He could tell there was something that kept Bruce from pursuing science the way that he should, but he wasn't sure if Bruce would feel comfortable telling him. Then again, maybe he had a few secrets of his own that he needed to share first.

He crossed the small space between them so that he was standing just behind him. "So do you have any input on my design?"

Bruce startled and turned quickly around, as if surprised by their proximity. His mouth was open slightly and Tony could hardly stand it. 

"I had a few ideas," Bruce said, his voice a tad strangled. Tony definitely couldn't take it anymore.

"Good," he said. "But I think we should leave the closet before we discuss them."

Bruce's face pinched slightly. "Was that a gay joke?"

"Nope." Bruce's face pinched further. "It was a confession."

"A—" Bruce's mouth fell open again. "A… confession? You…"

"Yes," Tony cut over his stammering. He looked around them. "It's a very crowded closet. But…" He smiled tentatively. "At least it doesn't feel so lonely in here anymore."

"Are—Are you sure it's not lousy company?" Bruce asked in an uncertain whisper.

"Absolutely sure," Tony answered. "So sure I…" He scanned his eyes over Bruce's face, ending at his lips, and then back again until he met his gaze. He saw his eyes dilate behind his glasses before softening.

"What would your team say?" Bruce asked, but he didn't shy away from the gravitational pull suddenly between them.

"Don't really care."

"Doesn't Steve have a rule?"

"I'm getting really tired of rules."

"This probably isn't a good idea," Bruce tried one more time, his eyes closed and lips inching closer as he ignored his own protests.

"Only one way to find out," Tony replied.

Their lips finally brushed and Tony felt his breath hitch at the spark that buzzed through him. Bruce must have felt it too because he pulled back with a small gasp and looked at him with wide eyes searching his. Tony felt his heart swell and he couldn't fight a giddy smile before surging forward and kissing Bruce again, this time more properly. His hands moved to Bruce's cheeks and he felt Bruce's hands hesitantly brush against his stomach before giving into their urge to cling to his shirt.

It was intoxicating and everything he'd never felt when kissing another person. He was certain it had little to do with the fact that Bruce was a boy and almost everything to do with the fact that Bruce was Bruce. He wasn't just any boy; he was the kind of boy his dad implied would come along. He was the kind of boy he wanted to get to know about more than any other. He was the kind of boy he wanted to say screw it to whatever rules and status quo there was in place and take a chance with in every way he could. He was the kind of boy that felt just like...

"It feels like kindergarten," he said as they broke apart for air. He searched Bruce's eyes.

Bruce smiled and closed his eyes before nodding. "Like kindergarten."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. References to Lord of the Rings and Black Swan in regards to Betty and Jane's confessions.  
> 2\. Reference to Goop.


	5. When There Was Me and You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Why did I let myself believe miracles could happen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for major homophobia in this chapter from Ross, implied from Howard, Tony being gutted, Bruce being gutted, Natasha dealing with sexual harassment, just a bunch of grossness and sadness.

Bruce smiled at Tony as they stood in Mr. Selvig's class waiting for him to finish looking over their proposed project of a miniaturized arc reactor that would power a small robot. Tony smiled back and Bruce's stomach fluttered. They held their gaze until Mr. Selvig cleared his throat and they both looked back at him in sync.

"I don't think I've ever seen a project of this magnitude suggested by students at your level," he said, looking up at them. "It's not only ambitious, it shows real potential for application and use in the real world. If this works, I'd want to show it to friends at ESU and MIT."

"Whoa," Tony said. "Seriously?"

"Yes," Selvig said before a calculating look formed on his face. "Let me ask you boys something. Have either of you ever tested on your IQ?"

Bruce's smile fell. "I… I had a teacher suggest it once. Didn't go over so well so I never did." He glanced at Tony and sure enough he was looking at him in curious concern.

Mr. Selvig gave a small hum and then looked at Tony directly. "What about you, Mr. Stark? I'm trying to understand how someone with your obvious intellect has managed to fall through the cracks here at S.H.I.E.L.D. Academy."

Tony shrugged. "I just didn't feel like taking advanced courses. Sports was my thing and you can't do both."

"Then why are you attempting to do both now?" Selvig pushed. Tony opened his mouth to respond, but then looked at Bruce in study. Bruce's cheeks went flush and he glanced away. "I see." Selvig studied Tony for a moment longer as if trying to decide how to address Tony's about-face and the implication of his avoiding his intelligence before this point. "Well I hope this means you're ready to realize your untapped potential. As for this project, I approve. It's ambitious for a six-week deadline, but I believe the two of you just might be capable enough to pull it off. I'll expect a full report on your progress every Friday and you'll need to keep detailed data and journals." He held out the project proposal for them to take back.

"Of course." Bruce nodded as he took it.

"Thanks for the opportunity," Tony added before they left the classroom.

They were silent as they walked through the mostly-empty hall, but it was a comfortable silence. Bruce knew it was the kind of silence where they were both on the same page, thinking the same thoughts. They'd turned in the project. Mr. Selvig knew for sure now what he was working with – two dabblers who were ready to take a chance. There was no going back now.

Bruce glanced sidelong at Tony and wondered about the other thing that had transpired between them. Was there any going back from that? Was there any coming out about it too? Would Tony even want to? Would _he_?

Bruce stopped, struck by the thought. _Would_ he?

Tony stopped and turned to look at him curiously. Bruce knew he was wondering what he was thinking, but Bruce wasn't sure if he could put it in words because he didn't know how he really felt yet. He opened his mouth to try, but then furrowed his brow when he heard hushed voices. He took a few steps back to where the hall intersected with another and his eyebrows flew upward. He moved forward again so as not to be seen and looked at Tony, who was eying him even more curiously than before.

Tony moved past him to look as well and Bruce spun around to watch him as he peered around the corner. Tony then pulled back and looked at him.

"Huh. Been wondering when that would happen," he said in a low voice. Bruce furrowed his brow and took another peek around the corner at Steve and Natasha as they seemed deep in conversation.

"What do you mean?" Bruce asked as they started walking away from the scene.

"I've suspected for a while what those two really need is a healthy dose of each other." He shook his head and glanced back over his shoulder. "But Steve is clueless when it comes to girls, what with his obsession with the team. And then there's Natasha and her… misplaced disdain." Bruce raised an eyebrow at that. "Long story. Freshmen year. Mostly my fault for being an asshole," he said in a clipped tone.

Bruce didn't press. He wasn't sure he wanted to know anyhow.

***

The feeling of everything starting to make sense had yet to subside for Tony as he parted ways with Bruce after meeting briefly at the end of school. Bruce had had dinner at his house the night before, but this afternoon he was going to go to Bruce's house and Bruce had insisted his aunt would probably want him to stay too. He hoped so because already this, well it was kind of like dating if they hadn't said it in so many words, thing with Bruce made the most sense of all.

His good mood was tempered as he entered the locker room and found his team gathered and clearly waiting for his arrival. "Something up?" he asked warily.

"I decided we needed to have a team meeting before practice," Steve said.

"That so?" Tony crossed his arms. "This should be good. I'm fairly certain there's nothing you haven't already said that could convince me."

"Just one thing," Steve said and he glanced down as if fortifying himself before looking at Tony with a steely gaze. "You need to choose."

"Excuse me?" Tony's arms dropped to his sides.

"It's clear your head isn't in the game anymore. You don't care about your team and that's not going to do us any good." Tony's fists clenched and he started to see red. "You want to go be a scientist? Fine. But not at our expense. We either need you one hundred percent focused out there on that court or we don't need you at all."

Tony blinked long and hard. His eyes then moved to each of his teammates. His irritation had turned to shock, but now the shock was turning into pure anger.

"You're kicking me off the team?"

"Only if that's what you want?"

"Oh, stop pretending you're a saint, Rogers," Tony growled and stepped into his space to stare him down. "I knew you had a self-righteous streak, but this is a bit much even for you."

"You forced my hand."

"Sure I did." Tony scoffed. "Well, here's the thing about your hand. It doesn't have the power to kick me off this team."

"No, but mine does," Coach Ross interrupted in a harsh tone. Tony turned to look at the coach, but his stomach fell and his heart raced at the unexpected sight of his father. "Steve tells me you've got some science fair thing that he thinks will be too much of a distraction when we need you focused on playoffs."

"Tony, what's this about?" Howard demanded.

Tony looked back at Steve, the traitor's face wide with shock. "You told? _You fucking_ **_told_** _?_ "

"I—" Steve looked back and forth between him and the two men staring Tony down. "I didn't think… I just wanted to lead this team."

"What else have you told them about, hmm?" Tony shoved him. "What else!? Does the whole team know?"

"That you're gay?" Clint chimed in with an incredulous snort. "Uh, yeah. We do. But we didn't need Steve to tell us to figure that one out."

"I demand an explanation _now_ , Tony," Howard interrupted. Tony looked to see him red-faced and disbelieving.

It was the reaction he'd always expected and something inside Tony broke.

***

"You think he's into you," Natasha swooped in on Bruce without warning, like a skilled ninja or spy, "but it won't last."

Bruce frowned as she moved to stand in the doorway of the room the decathlon team met in, blocking his entrance. He craned his neck to look past her, but then what she said processed in his mind and he looked at her.

"What are you talking about?"

"Tony," she clarified. "You might have his interest now, but whatever you think there is between you I can almost guarantee you he doesn't feel it the way you think he does."

Bruce frowned more deeply. "I think it's none of your business. What he does or doesn't feel about me is between him and me. It's not even a point in need of discussion," he lied.

She must have realized he was lying because she gave a short laugh. "I know, Bruce." He scrunched his face. "I've known since freshman year. That's why I'm warning you. He might pretend otherwise, but he cares what other people think."

"Don't we all?" Bruce asked dubiously before pushing past her finally to get into the classroom. Only Jane and Betty were there and they had nervous expressions on their faces. "Look, what is it you really want?"

"For you to know the truth. Tony Stark is the kind of guy that will say all the sweet and deep things you want to hear, make you feel sorry for him and want to help him somehow. Then next thing you know the whole school is calling you a man-eating slut."

"What?" Bruce turned and looked at her. "How does that…" He recalled what Tony had said in the hallway earlier that day. Something about him and Natasha and freshman year.

"Tony has, or at least had, a rep for letting girls fool around with him to get in practice. But he never, you know," she shrugged.

"Let it go that far?" Bruce filled in the blanks, even as he blanched a little thinking of Tony with all those girls. Determined, no doubt, to prove his heterosexuality or maybe even to force himself to like it. He glanced at Jane and Betty. The two girls were blushing and looking away and he wondered if they'd known beforehand about Tony's orientation – he didn't think they'd be the types to tell – or were they two of the girls he'd… Bruce didn't want to know.

"I won't get into why I was stupid enough to try and fool around with him in the first place," Natasha said, "but I was apparently the first girl to figure it out. Or at least the first one willing to confront him about it when I did."

She walked over to a chair and sat down in it. He could tell she had more to say and even though he didn't want to hear it, he let her continue.

"He opened up to me. I felt sorry for him. I thought maybe we could be friends and I'd help him come out." She sighed. "I... I made the mistake of thinking his close friend Pepper knew. She was also his off and on girlfriend in middle school. It made sense to me that she would, but she didn't and she was so stunned she couldn't resist asking Tony about it. He… He got mad and we had a sort of, well, a public fight. Steve made it worse like he usually does. Tried to defend Tony and said in front of half the school that Tony told him all about how not to trust me. I don't if Tony really had said it before, or if Steve was just playing to some bro code, but Tony went with it. He took what Steve said and then told everyone I was a desperate slut on a mission to fuck every guy in school." She frowned and looked down. Bruce felt sick to his stomach. "Guys wouldn't leave me alone after that and a lot of the same girls who'd fool around with Tony and not think anything of it seemed to think I was some trashy human being. Took a lot of effort to get from there to president of junior council." She shrugged. "Whatever. I'm over that part. But Tony Stark is a coward, Bruce." She looked him in the eyes. "He cares too much about his reputation. Push comes to shove he'll—"

"I demand an explanation _now_ , Tony!"

Bruce blinked in surprise and turned to see Jane and Betty with a laptop up. It seemed to be live streaming from a cellphone camera. The two girls had guilty expressions on their faces and Bruce felt like this was all wrong and he shouldn't be watching, letting this happen, but he couldn't tear his eyes away from Tony's stricken expression as his face filled the computer screen.

Then the stricken expression turned vehement. "You want an explanation, dad? Huh? Will you rest easier at night knowing the only balls your son cares about are sports balls?"

" _Tony_ , listen here _._ " Even if Bruce hadn't briefly met Howard Stark the night before it was the harsh voice of a father, Bruce thought with a shiver.

"No, you listen. I'm sure Coach Ross has told you all about my degradation into science and homosexuality." He shot a look at someone beside him. "Or maybe Steve did."

"I didn't know," Steve protested weakly, "he'd find out."

"Save it. _All_ of you can save it." His eyes scanned around. "You want me to focus on basketball right now? Fine. I'll focus on basketball. Science is a waste of time." Bruce felt the blow. "I'm a Stark. I know that."

"And that Banner kid?" Coach Ross sounded like he might be foaming at the mouth.

"Banner?" Howard echoed. "That boy that was at our house last night? _Him_?" There were some 'oohs' from the team, but Howard shouted, "Shut it!"

Bruce closed his damp eyes, waiting for Tony's response. It took long enough that it didn't matter what his answer might be because the pain was already inflicted. Tony had to think about it. He had to decide whether or not Bruce was worth it. Bruce hadn't known before if it would bother him not being out with Tony, but now he did know. Tony's hesitance hurt.

But it didn't hurt as much as Tony's response: "No, there's no _him._ He's just a boy. We're partners for the science fair, but clearly I'm going to have to bail on him. Get my head in the game, right?"

It didn't help that Tony's voice was cold and bitter.

"You can close it," Bruce said, wiping at his eyes.

"Bruce," Betty attempted to console him first, but he just shook his head and left.

So Natasha had been right, he thought ruefully as he wandered the empty halls to get his things from his locker. He wanted to be as far away from the school as possible. He wanted to run, hide, anything that could make him forget Tony's betrayal.

Bruce had foolishly let himself believe that everything would be different with Tony. Everything would finally work out for him. He could be the person he wanted to be with Tony. But clearly Tony didn't feel the same way. Maybe Bruce was wrong about his own feelings too. Maybe he would have said the same in Tony's position because of it. Maybe it had all been a figment of his lonely, desperate imagination.

He thumbed away a few more stray tears as he grabbed his book bag and started putting the few books and notebooks he needed for the night into it. There was no use crying over it so he gave a derisive snort at himself instead. He was sure if only his dad could see him now he'd laugh snidely at him and tell him it's what a no-good freak like him deserved.

"Bruce?" Bruce flinched at the sound of Tony's voice. "I was on my way to hang out with you in the decathlon practice. You're done already?"

"I didn't really feel up to practice today," Bruce said as evenly as he could manage. "What about you? No basketball practice?"

"Yeah, kind of in the same boat," Tony mumbled. Bruce rolled his eyes upward and took a deep, tense breath in as he stiffened his lips. "So, uh, I was thinking—"

"Me too," Bruce said, steeling himself, and shutting his locker. He turned to look at Tony and it was almost enough to melt that steely resolve instantly. Almost. "I… don't want to do the science competition."

Tony's face muscles tightened. "What? Why?"

"It's just not a good idea, Tony. You've got your team to think about. The school's counting on you and… I can't handle the pressure. Everybody's talking and… it's just not worth it."

Tony looked like he'd been dealt a hard blow. "Not worth it?"

Bruce swallowed hard against the lump in his throat and nodded once. "I'm sorry. But I guess that's the other thing about kindergarten." He looked away and pursed his lips tight, trying not to break, before looking back. He shrugged as he said, "It doesn't last. That's not how life works. So… you take care of your boys and the people counting on you. And I'll, I'll just stick with the decathlon. That's more than enough responsibility for me right now." He let out a sigh and walked past Tony.

"Bruce, wait," Tony called after him. "Wait, I don't understand. What about… Can I at least still come over?"

Bruce stopped in his tracks and closed his eyes tightly. "Um… You know, it's probably not a good day. Maybe another time. I'll… I'll see you around, Tony."

***

_"I'll see you around, Tony."_

That's what Bruce had promised him. And, sure, they'd run into each other a few times around school since the unexpected blow, but seeing each other wasn't the same as actually talking to one another or being with each other. It was clear that Bruce was avoiding him.

Or at least it was after lunch on Friday when they'd almost bumped into each other in the cafeteria. For a moment Bruce had smiled at him and Tony had smiled back hopefully. But when Tony opened his mouth to say something, Bruce's smile fell. He shook his head as if upset with both himself and Tony before pushing past him. He'd watched as Natasha had called for him to join her and Jane and Betty had offered a similar invite only for Bruce to ignore everyone. Tony hadn't been able to do anything, but frown and then shoot a glare at his own beckoning 'friends' before leaving in the opposite direction.

Tony didn't know what had happened, other than everyone making a huge deal about it and rattling Bruce, but it was driving him crazy. His life was miserable enough as it was. His dad seemed more distant than before, Steve had ratted him out in addition to trying to make him choose between the team and science, and no one else on the team seemed willing to have his back. But having Bruce push him away too… That had been an unexpected blow. The only upside was knowing for certain now that a choice between Bruce and the way things had always been wasn't even a choice. Maybe it was fast and reckless and just this side of a melodramatic teen flick, but in a week's time Bruce had become something Tony couldn't imagine his life without anymore.

But, of course, that only made it worse because he knew what he wanted now only for Bruce to not want him in return anymore. Maybe he never really had.

"Time out!" Coach Ross called to the referee and a whistle blew. Tony was pulled from his wandering thoughts about Bruce and hustled over to the coach with the rest of the team. "Stark, take a seat," Ross said with a grunt. "I imagine Westchester's little male cheerleader could score more points than you," he barked.

"Yeah and his boyfriend has scored the most points of the game," Tony barked back. "Maybe you should take it up with the referee for letting that kind of boy on the court. Get him dejected and see if it evens our chances of winning." He stalked over to the bench and sat down with a frustrated grunt, grabbing his water bottle and a towel.

Tony glanced across the court at the Westchester team. As their coach dismissed them from a huddle, Lensherr glanced at his boyfriend who threw him a bright smile and wink amidst his cheering. Lensherr looked besotted and Tony was willing to admit he was jealous of the Wolverine player. He was able to flirt with his boyfriend openly _and_ kill it at the game. Steve's rule was stupid. If he and everyone else had just left well enough alone maybe Bruce wouldn't have had second thoughts about things. Maybe Bruce would even be there at the game right now since he'd planned on asking him to come. Maybe he'd be able to look into the stands and find the support and encouragement to get back out there on the court and give it his all.

As it was, he really didn't care that Ross had benched him. He didn't feel like giving his all. Two days ago the team hadn't even been sure they wanted him around anymore. Being benched felt like a breeze to endure compared to everything he'd been through since that moment.

He wasn't surprised when that status didn't change on the next time out. Ross probably really did think he was that kind of boy now, and thus suddenly unable to play. It couldn't at all be the fact that Tony wasn't as good at basketball as everyone seemed to assume just because he busted his ass to compare to some of the others; the Stark name blinded them and exaggerated his skill in his opinion. Tony just rolled his eyes when Ross threw him a dirty look upon breaking the huddle.

Then he furrowed his brows when Thor beamed wide and waved at someone. He followed his line of sight and saw it was Jane. So he'd invited her to the game after all? Good for him, he thought, even if he was still mad at his team in general.

When he looked back again something else caught his eyes. Steve was talking to Vice Principal Coulson. The VP had a deep frown on his face. He nodded and then the whistle was blown, pulling Steve back onto the court with the other players. Tony watched as Coulson made his way over to Principal Fury. The man turned a sharp glare in his direction and Tony wondered what could possibly go wrong now.

Fury looked at Coach Hill who sat beside him and said something. Then Fury stood and dramatically made his way over to them, Hill following behind with as disdainful a look as Tony had ever seen on her face. Tony was about to throw out an 'I can explain' when Fury and Hill stopped in front of Coach Ross.

"Look, I know we're down," Ross started talking immediately, "but I've rectified the problem." Ross glanced in Tony's direction to make his point clear. "They've got five minutes. Plenty of time to bounce back."

"Oh, I have no doubt our boys can bounce back," Fury said in a cool, clipped tone. "But if they do it won't be under your leadership."

Tony's eyebrows shot up and he glanced between the three adults. Ross turned red and looked like might choke on his own hot air.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, effective immediately, you are no longer coach of this team. Coach Hill will be taking over your duties until such time further review of allegations against you can be completed."

Ross sputtered. "What the hell are you talking about? What allegations?"

"Allegations," Fury drawled, "that you have been acting in an inappropriate manner. There are members of your team who feel uncomfortable and discriminated against. You'll have time to defend yourself, but as Principal I have no choice but to remove you from this team."

"You… You can't do this!"

"Already done," Principal Fury said simply. "Vice Principal Coulson is reporting the change to the refs. Now let's go."

Tony watched with wide eyes as Fury forced the other man to come with him. He didn't know what to think.

"You ready for another go?" Coach Hill asked before he really could give it much thought anyhow.

He looked at her. "Head's not in the game, coach," he said honestly.

"Not what I was asking, Stark," she replied coolly. "Are you able to dribble a ball or aren't you?"

"Well, yeah, but—"

"Then I want you out there guarding Howlett. The others don't know what to do with him. Go in for Barton," she instructed.

"Yes, coach," Tony said and made his way over to the scorer's table and awaited his chance to go in.

"Welcome back," Steve said when he came onto the court before a jump ball.

"Don't think whatever you said to Coulson about Ross makes up for—"

"I know," Steve interrupted quickly. "It doesn't. And I still have a lot to apologize for."

Tony sighed. "After the game," he said. "First, let's beat these guys."

They didn't beat Westchester in the end, but they weren't dealt as humiliating a loss as they'd been gearing up for prior to Coach Hill taking over. Tony was the first into the locker room and the showers after the game. When he came out he found the rest of the team waiting for him yet again.

"Team meeting," Steve said as soon as he stopped in his tracks and looked at them.

"I feel a little under dressed for one," Tony quipped, gesturing to the towel around his waist. He then sighed. "Go on. Say it. We lost because of me."

"Don't give yourself all the credit, Stark," Clint countered with a snort. The others laughed.

"We lost because we screwed up," Steve said. "No, I screwed up. I acted like a bully and I'm sorry. I was too busy being the captain of this team instead of your friend. Bruce seems like a nice guy and it's clear he makes you happy—"

"Science makes me happy too," Tony interjected. "This was never just about Bruce."

"I know," Steve replied. "I get that now. And you should be allowed to do whatever it is that makes you happy."

"And we should be happy for you," Thor said. There was a chorus of agreement.

"I draw," Steve said then and everyone looked at him. Tony furrowed his brow. "The thing I don't tell anyone about me is I draw. Not just doodling. I have, like," he lifted his shoulders, holding them in a shrug, "a whole art studio in my attic. I love it. Pencils, paints, pastels, anything."

Tony wasn't sure what to say to that at first. Finally, he settled on, "You'll have to show us sometime."

"Assuming you still want anything to do with me after I tell you the rest." Tony frowned at that ominous introduction. "The other day when I told you to make a choice, I was trying to make you mad enough to say something stupid or brash to get me to shut up about it."

"You're easy to rile up," Clint added. "So we decided he'd push your buttons and then I'd live stream it with my phone to a laptop during the nerd—" He stopped short. "Uh, during the decathlon meeting."

Tony's eyes widened and his stomach churned. "Bruce," he said in sudden realization.

"Natasha helped because, well, she still seems to hate you," Steve said with a sigh. "And she seems to like Bruce well enough so it wasn't too hard to convince her to go along with a plan to keep the two of you apart."

"So he heard everything?" Tony bristled, feeling sick. "He heard all of that crap I said about him and the competition?" He shook his head. "No wonder he hates my guts."

"That… and I guess Natasha told him about freshman year." Steve looked down guiltily.

"Oh, well, that's swell. As if my getting angry and saying things I didn't mean wasn't bad enough. Bury me with my shitty past."

"I didn't know she would do that," Steve protested, looking back up at him. He gave a heavy sigh. "I didn't know that Ross would get your dad involved either. And I swear I didn't know he would be homophobic about any of it. That's not an excuse, but—"

"It's not," Tony said bitterly. He then closed his eyes and rubbed at them with his free hand. "I don't know if I'm going to be able to forgive any of you for this," he admitted. Then he sighed and opened his eyes again. "But now I know what I've got to do."

***

The doorbell rang, startling Bruce from his depressed thoughts. He realized he'd been staring at the same paragraph in his book for about a half an hour. He shook his head and tossed it aside, giving into curiosity to see who could possibly be visiting him and his aunt at this hour; it gave his mind something to do. He nearly froze though when he heard a familiar voice introducing himself at the door.

"I'm Tony Stark."

"Oh, Tony," his aunt seemed to chirp with excitement at the recognized name.

"Is Bruce available?"

Bruce took a few more cautious steps down the stairs, glad he wouldn't be seen from the door and when his aunt Susan looked at him to gauge his willingness to talk to Tony Bruce shook his head firmly and mouthed his disinclination.

"You know, Bruce is really busy right now," she lied for him. "I'm afraid it's not a very good time."

"Have you ever made a really big mistake?" Tony asked her. "Or maybe a lot of really big mistakes that just kept adding up?" He sighed. "I made a mistake and I'd _really_ like for Bruce to know that." Bruce frowned and looked down at nothing in particular as he listened. "Could you maybe tell him that for me? Or, well, no. I probably should do that myself. Could you at least tell him I came by to see him?"

"I can do that," Susan said. "Good night, Tony."

"Thanks. Good night."

Bruce sighed and trudged back up to his bedroom. Part of him wanted nothing more than to hurry out of the house and chase Tony down. Part of him wanted to give Tony a chance to apologize. But he didn't want to give Tony another chance to hurt him.

Bruce was startled when his phone started ringing almost as soon as he shut his door behind him. He walked over to his nightstand and picked it up. Of course. It was Tony.

He bit his lip and then answered it. "Hello, Tony."

"Please just let me explain," Tony started up immediately.

Bruce huffed. "Nothing to explain."

"I know that you heard what I said in the locker room. And I know what Natasha told you," Tony pressed on anyhow. "Everything she told you was true, but I'm not that person anymore."

"Didn't sound that way." He turned on his bedside lamp. "And it's fine, Tony. Really."

"It's _not_ fine. I wouldn't be okay if it had been the other way around. I got mad that everything I'd ever worked to prevent from happening was happening and it was out of my control. It wasn't on my terms. And… And I just snapped. And maybe I was scared, but I don't want to be that person. I want to be the person you met at the lodge. That _is_ me. I just… I'm not used to being that guy so I lost sight of him for a moment. I'm sorry."

"Tony," Bruce sighed and paced around his room, "I get it, okay? Your team—"

"Let me down," Tony supplied.

"But your dad," he tried again. That was a big one. As upset and hurt as he'd been the past few days, the idea of Tony having to deal with his dad was an unpleasant one to live with. If Mr. Stark were to punish Tony for being into science or gay, he'd feel even worse.

"This isn't about my dad," Tony replied. "This is about how I feel. And I'm tired of letting others dictate or interpret my feelings for me. So I'm going to do the competition, but I can't without you."

"Tony," Bruce tried to protest.

"I brought you something."

"What?"

"Turn around."

Bruce furrowed his brow, but then did so. He was startled by the sight of Tony standing on the small balcony off his bedroom. He hung up the phone and threw it onto his bed before walking over to the sliding doors and opening them.

"Tony… You shouldn't be here."

Tony ignored him. "For as long as I can remember all I've ever heard is that I need to keep my head in the game. 'Get your head in the game, Tony' or 'Where's your head at, Tony?' I guess eventually I forgot I have a heart too because it wasn't important in the grand scheme of things." Tony held up a notebook with a drawing of the miniaturized arc reactor. "But this," he shook it slightly, "is where my heart is, Bruce. And if the world can't handle it, it's their problem. You reminded me I still have a heart and I'm not going to ignore it anymore." Tony took a deep breath and lowered the notebook. He took a step forward, closing the space between them. "But it's a pairs competition."

Bruce took his own deep breath and studied Tony's earnest face. "Okay," he said. "We'll do the project."

"And about us?" Tony asked.

Bruce looked down at their shoes, considering it. "I… I don't know if that's such a good idea. Maybe one thing at a time. I think maybe it's clear neither one of us are ready for that kind of scrutiny on top of everything else." He looked up in a tentative fashion to read Tony's reaction.

"I'm sorry," Tony repeated. "I'm sorry I wasn't able to stand up for us the minute my dad started acting like an ass."

"I don't know if I would have been able to either," Bruce confessed. "That's why I think maybe we should just be friends for now. Just until we're sure. A lot has happened already."

He could tell Tony didn't like the idea of being realistic about their circumstances any more than Bruce did, but he didn't argue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Ross can go jump off a cliff because I am a slut for cheerleader!Charles like give me ALL of the cheerleader!Charles idec if it's Cherik (though preferred) because I just need cheerleader!Charles. So yes Lensherr's boyfriend was cheerleader!Charles. And one more time for good measure: CHEERLEADER!CHARLES


	6. Bop to the Top

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gotta bump the competition.

"I think we should probably talk finally."

Bruce turned his head from watching Tony, practicing on the court with a few of his teammates during free period, to see Natasha approaching the bleachers. He took a deep breath and then let it out with a sigh. He turned his head back just in time to see Tony sink a shot.

"I think if anything you should probably talk to Tony," he said as evenly as he could manage. She climbed up on to the bleachers and sat on the row behind him just the same.

"You're probably right about that, all things considered," she conceded. "But that's not the bad blood I'm worried about at the moment."

Bruce narrowed his eyes and rolled them in her direction. "Why? You... It's not like you really know me. It's, you know, not a big deal." He shrugged.

"Wow," Natasha said flatly. He turned sideways to look at her. "Does Tony find your absolute lack of self-esteem attractive? Should I be concerned, Bruce?" She raised an eyebrow. Her tone and expression suggested she was teasing, intentionally being a skeptical pain.

Bruce snorted. "I don't know what about me Tony finds attractive." He shook his head, but then he realized what he'd said. "I mean, not that... I don't know that he finds anything attractive. About me. I—"

"Really?" Natasha's other eyebrow went up. "Denial? After everything?"

"It's... more complicated than that?"

"It doesn't have to be," she reasoned. "I mean it's your business, but if you think more people aren't starting to take the hint about S.H.I.E.L.D.'s favorite son, you're wrong. That ship sailed the minute you showed up here." Bruce gave a reflexive flinch. "I had my doubts, but he really _is_ into you."

Bruce glanced back at the court. Tony passed the ball to Steve and then glanced his way. Noticing his watching, Tony flashed him a smile and then ran down the court to continue practicing. Bruce smiled and looked back at Natasha.

"I guess that brings us back to why I'm here," Natasha said. "I had my doubts."

"And you interfered." Bruce licked his lips and looked down. "Why? Because you dislike Tony? I don't blame you, but... was it revenge?"

"No," Natasha answered. "Not revenge. Felt more like avenging." He glanced back up at her quickly, confused. "You came along and, it might sound crazy, but I saw someone gearing up to get hurt by him, maybe even more than I had, and I didn't want that to happen. You didn't seem like someone who deserved it."

Bruce blinked. "You did it for me?"

"And me. I'm not completely altruistic. You see, I figured if I could stop him from hurting someone else maybe I could finally get over my issues with him. Move on."

"Did you?" Bruce asked, looking away.

"If I had, we wouldn't be having this conversation. Instead of feeling better about things, I felt like, well, as bad as I'd always thought of him." She frowned and leaned forward, elbows resting on her knees. "So I'm sorry. I'm sorry I got involved. I'm sorry I did what I did to make you hate him the way I do."

"I don't," Bruce said with a sigh. 

"I can see that," she replied with a small smirk and glanced at the court.

"No, I mean..." He glanced at the court as well. "Even when I was confused and hurting and angry... I didn't actually hate him." He looked back at Natasha. "I mean, I'm not saying that to belittle what he did to you, but I guess I'm not the best judge of character when it comes to hiding or doing things you regret later." He pursed his lips tightly. "You don't even want to know what I've done in the past or almost done."

She looked back at him with wide eyes. She studied him in confusion. "Are you... okay?"

"No," he admitted. He'd wanted to build a bomb. Kill himself. Maybe kill some of his bullies in the process. Stop running from his father. Make his aunt's life easier. "But I'm not that person anymore. And you might be surprised, but the past few weeks have been probably some of the best of my life."

"Even with what Steve and I did?" He hitched a shoulder. "That's pretty sad."

He snorted. "A little. But, uh, you know," he became serious again, "Tony's trying not to be that person anymore too. I really think you should talk to him."

"Would you if you were me?" she challenged.

"No," he said with a chuckle. "I'm more, run away and never deal with the issue." He studied her. "But you don't strike me as the type."

Her lips drew into a thin line and she got down off the bleachers. "Stark," she called out sharply. Tony practically froze in place. "Got a minute?" Tony glanced at his teammates and then at Bruce.

Bruce nodded in encouragement and then watched at Tony followed Natasha to the other side of the gym to talk. Bruce smiled and then figured he might as well return to the homework he'd been ignoring in favor of watching Tony practice. He reached for the book beside him, but paused when he sensed a tall presence hovering nearby. He turned his head to see it was Steve, looking at him in a tentative manner.

"What about you? Got a minute?" Steve asked.

"Sure."

Steve sat down on the row below him. He was toweling himself off as he looked out on the court, making sure not to make eye contact with him.

"I still can't believe I did what I did," Steve started after another short bit of silence. "I thought I was protecting him. Not from you specifically, but..." He sighed. "I guess also from you specifically."

"I didn't mean to cause trouble, you know," Bruce responded.

"I know." Steve glanced at him for a second before staring straight ahead again. "See, I didn't know about Tony being smart. But I knew about the other thing. Or was pretty certain anyway. I knew he was bothered by it or afraid for anyone to know so I thought I was doing right by him helping him keep it a secret."

"That's—" Bruce false-started, but then continued, "That's not unreasonable."

Steve let out a huff of air and then turned his body sideways to look at him finally. "Yeah, but I don't think it's completely honest either. I've been giving it a lot of thought the past couple of weeks and I think what Natasha said that day in the cafeteria is closer to the truth." Bruce furrowed his brow, trying to recall. "Tony's not the only one who's been scared."

"Wait," Bruce blinked, "are you...? She said you were jealous, right?"

"No, it's not that," Steve said quickly. "He's all yours." He held up his hands. Bruce blushed and looked away. "I mean, I'm pretty sure I'm straight? But I haven't really given it much thought one way or another. It's never been much of a motivating factor in my life." He snorted in a derisive tone. "Probably why it's easy for me to expect the same from my team." Bruce nodded softly as he looked back. "But the jealousy thing? Yeah, probably still true. This team has been together for so long it feels almost like we're, I don't know, soldiers and comrades or something. I'd do anything for them. And it maybe scares me to think of that changing. It's hard enough to think about college, you know? I guess it scared me so much I'd been willing to do whatever it takes to keep things from changing." He sighed and turned his head toward where Tony and Natasha were still talking. "Including hurting one of my best friends."

"I think he's coming around," Bruce offered.

"Yeah and I think that's your doing too," Steve offered in return, surprising him. "I don't know how, but..." He looked at him with a raised brow.

"I, uh," Bruce stammered, "that is, we may have had a discussion about friends. I've never really had any so I said I'd hate to see him lose all of his just because of me. He doesn't deserve my fate. I'd... I couldn't really live with myself if I'd destroyed everything just by being here." He looked down at his lap and realized he'd fallen back into his old habit of wringing his hands.

Steve didn't speak for a long moment and Bruce was antsy in the silence, but then finally he said, "You being here changed things, sure. But I'd say the honor of destroying things belongs to myself and Natasha. And definitely Coach Ross." Bruce cringed at the name. He still had a hard time relating Betty with the man as kind as she seemed – barring her misguided aiding of the plan against him and Tony. "So, I'm sorry. And maybe if you could come around you and me can be friends too? You don't seem like the kind of guy who should be friendless."

"Well," Bruce hitched a shoulder, "you know. I'm not completely friendless these days," he deflected. "I've got most of the decathlon team. And I've hung out with Thor via Jane, and he seems pretty chill and invited me over to play—"

"Mario Kart?" Steve asked with a groan.

"Yeah," Bruce answered with a chuckle.

"If you said yes you may regret that," Steve warned with his own chuckle. There was a pause in the conversation. "And, I guess you've got Natasha too," Steve then randomly pointed out, pointing briefly as he did.

Bruce narrowed his gaze and then looked across the gym. "Yeah, well, I don't think I had much of a choice on that one. It's like she picked me and I can't say no." He chuckled again and shook his head. Steve on the other hand laughed outright and with just enough nervousness that Bruce remembered what Tony had said before. "So, Natasha," he said with a wry smile. "Ever given it much thought about Natasha?"

Steve sputtered. "I, uh..." He looked and his eyes went wide when he realized Natasha and Tony were headed their way. "I'm... You know, I need to go shower. Before the period ends. Talk to you later, Bruce," he said.

Steve made a quick exit, darting directly between Tony and Natasha. Bruce spied the way Natasha watched him leave in an almost-appreciative manner. Tony on the other hand just seemed confused. Until he looked at Bruce.

"You're wearing your troll smile," Tony said with a broad smile of his own. "What did you say to him?"

"Asked him about his love life."

Tony started laughing. "No wonder he ran off."

Natasha just gave a small _hmph_ of a snort before walking away.

***

The past month had been so unexpectedly amazing that Tony could hardly remember that first stressful week of struggling with what he wanted to do and what he was expected to do. He and his friends had made amends and Bruce had forgiven him so it was hard to remember how everything had nearly fallen apart at the beginning.

The only memory of that week that was still sharply in focus was that afternoon Bruce had come over to his house the first time. The only thing that would make things absolutely perfect would be kissing Bruce again. He wanted to be able to hold his hand in the hallway, go with him to the next dance, kiss him after winning a game – especially since the S.H.I.E.L.D. Avengers were doing well enough, now that he wasn't unfocused and Hill was coaching them, that they were headed to the semifinals game against Westchester in a week.

Being with Bruce so much over the past month Tony just wanted to be _with_ him.

Each passing day broke down his reservations, his knee-jerk worries about what anyone might say. He was fairly certain it was common gossip now anyways. He was pretty sure people were getting used to the idea – well maybe not his dad quite yet – and just waiting for the inevitable day. He liked to think maybe some were even rooting for them.

Sure, not everyone was kind about it, but things around S.H.I.E.L.D. had been changing drastically and beyond reason Tony embracing his other talents somehow only made him even more the golden boy. Something about being more relatable and all around perfect according to Darcy. Of course Tony didn't think it would have mattered if he had stopped being the golden boy.

As he came up to the school and saw Bruce waiting for him as he often did before schoolnow, sitting on the low wall and a textbook open in his lap, _nothing_ else in the world mattered. The only thing that mattered was the way Tony's eyes focused in on every detail of the wavy-haired boy as he scrunched his nose in study of the words on the page. The only thing that mattered was the way his heart hammered in his chest and gymnasts did acrobatics in his stomach. The only thing that seemed to matter anymore was Bruce.

"Hey, Tony." Bruce broke through his thoughts with a small wave (well, quick rise and fall of his hand, would be more accurate). Tony smiled and made his way over to him as Bruce put his book away in his bag.

"Darn," Tony teased without segue. "I was going to offer to carry it for you."

Bruce chuckled and rolled his eyes as he stood to his feet and hoisted the bag over his shoulder. "I can't think of anyone who finds that chivalrous these days."

"I don't know," Tony said, considering it, while they walked into the building. "I broke a couple ribs once. Would have probably fallen in love with anyone who would have carried my things for me."

"You're ridiculous." Bruce chuckled again. Then he ducked his head shyly and fidgeted with the strap of his backpack. "So, uh, what's the status on spending the weekend to finish the project?"

The competition was the following Saturday so they were in the homestretch. They needed to devote as much time as possible to getting it done, and school hours weren't really afforded to that at the moment since Tony had an obligation to his team more now than ever given the fact that the semifinal was the following Friday. The only way that made sense was to spend as much time at the others' place. Tony had been at Bruce's house after practice was over every day that week so far, but he'd suggested Bruce spend the weekend with him so they could really put the finishing touches on everything.

"Good news," Tony answered with a giddy smile. "Mom's fine with it."

"And your dad?"

"He's going to be out of town until Sunday night so mom's word is law."

Bruce smiled thinly and let himself relax. "Okay. I'll let my aunt Susan know."

Tony opened his mouth to respond when suddenly they were surrounded by the others in the strange group of friends that had assembled over the past month. Unsurprisingly Steve and Natasha were at the front of the group and both were looking at Bruce warily.

"What's going on?" Tony asked immediately.

"This was sent to everyone in the school," Jane supplied, holding out a printout of something. Tony bit his lip, hesitating a moment, before curiosity won out and he quickly grabbed it from her.

The item in question was a print out of a news report, from some news station in New Mexico. The headline read: _Local teen injured after science fair accident_

"Oh god," Bruce said beside him and immediately took several steps back as if making to run off. "I… It wasn't…" Then he did run.

"Who did this?" Tony crumpled the article in his hand. He didn't even care to read it. If it made Bruce react the way that he did then this was done maliciously to upset him. "Who sent it?"

"Who do you think?" Thor rumbled, and Tony almost expected lightning to follow.

"Loki," Tony spat the name and pushed through them.

"Tony, don't!" Steve called after him. "This is what he wants!"

Tony didn't have time for sound logic. He only needed to teach that narcissistic diva not to mess with him or the people he cared about. He didn't care that Loki had a height advantage on him. As soon as he found him he charged the bastard hard enough to slam him against the nearest locker.

"So you've heard," Loki said with a smirk.

"That you're a weasel?" Tony countered. "Yeah, that's been common knowledge since kindergarten."

"You should be thanking me, Stark." Loki remained cool in spite of Tony's assault. "Some of the reports seem to think he did it on purpose which is an interesting theory, but I'd say it gives him too much credit. If his shoddy work goes boom again, this time he might not be so lucky. You might not be either."

"Oh, you'd just love that, wouldn't you?" Tony growled, pulled him back and then slammed him hard against the locker again before letting go and taking a few steps back. He was ready for a fight if Loki charged him back. "We both know this is you being a chicken shit who can't handle the fact everyone in this school is inherently better than you. You're a whiny, pretentious, try-hard son of a—"

So Thor hadn't gotten _all_ the strength, Tony noted, when Loki suddenly pounced on him violently. He was seized by the neck and thrown as far as Loki could manage which was further than Tony would have given him credit for without the proof. Tony scrambled up into a defensive position, expecting Loki to lunge at him while he was down only for Loki to be violently thrown forward by a tackle from behind him. Tony's eyes widened when he realized it had been Bruce, both boys now wrestling on the floor.

"What's going on here?" Vice Principal Coulson's voice suddenly rang out through the hall, taking on a fiercer note than it usually held. They all scrambled to their feet. "To Principal Fury's office. Now."

Loki threw them both a jeer and Tony threw it right back before falling into step beside Bruce. "You shouldn’t have, Tony," Bruce mumbled under his breath. "He's not worth it."

Tony opened his mouth for a moment to protest, but instead asked, "Okay, then why did you attack him?"

"Because _you_ **_are_** ," he answered.

Tony smiled. "Then you know why I did what I did." Bruce's eyes were wide and blinking, but no verbal response was given.

When they reached Fury's office they were forced to sit and listen to Coulson explain to Fury the situation as far as he'd seen it. Then the VP left to talk to the witnesses he'd wrangled into his own office.

When alone with them, Fury shook his head and simply stared at them for a moment. Then his gaze settled on Bruce.

"You've sure made things interesting around here, Mr. Banner."

"I know." Bruce sighed as if defeated. "Go ahead and expel me. Call my aunt. I know the drill."

"I know you do," Fury said calmly. Tony felt the opposite of calm as he looked at Bruce. "I've read your file, Bruce. Which is why I’m not going to expel you. I'm not even going to ban you from the competition which I'm guessing is what Mr. Olson was hoping for with his little stunt." Fury turned a sharp gaze on Thor's brother then. "I won't be banning you either, Loki, since punishing academic and extracurricular pursuits is not a strategy I believe in. But," he said the word sharply, "you'll be reprimanded in other ways for your malicious misuse of school email."

"So you're not concerned?" Loki protested. "He's clearly a threat. His scientific knowledge is clearly unsound."

"Give me a break," Tony mumbled and scoffed.

"Don't push it, Stark," Fury warned, glancing at him next.  "You will all be reprimanded accordingly for engaging in the fight." He then looked back at Loki. "But it is not your call on whether or not Mr. Banner is a threat or the soundness of his scientific knowledge. I've already spoken with Mr. Selvig on the matter as we were both already aware of the incident."

Loki looked stunned and Bruce mumbled disheartened, "It's in my file."

"If either of us believed there was a potential issue, we would have addressed it. With Mr. Banner. Privately."

Tony felt a little smug as he glanced over and saw Loki's scowl. He'd often written Principal Fury off, a little because he suspected Fury knew he'd lied on the placement tests, and a little because the man seemed to be good friends with his dad so it added to the pressure, but maybe he wasn't all bad.

Bruce, on the other hand, looked the opposite of smug. He looked dazed at best. "You okay?" Tony leaned over and asked. He didn't answer so Tony leaned back and studied him.

Fury seemed to notice too and said, "I will doll out punishment later. Mr. Stark, Mr. Olson, get passes from the secretaries and get to class. Mr. Banner, I want to speak to you for a little longer." Bruce nodded weakly. "Nothing bad, I promise," he assured him.

Tony glanced at Fury with uncertainty as he stood, but then looked at Bruce. He placed a hand on his shoulder and Bruce looked up at him, brown eyes filled with so many conflicting emotions: disbelief, relief, nervousness, and even, Tony thought, apology. He wasn't sure why, but he gave Bruce's shoulder what he hoped was a reassuring squeeze before leaving the room.

Loki was already gone from the front office when Tony picked up his hall pass, but he found the bully waiting around out in the hall, sneer on his face like it was a permanent fixture. Tony merely rolled his eyes and walked past him.

"Oh, don't think this is over, Stark," Loki called after him.

Tony heard the icy threat in his tone and it gave him pause, but confidently he called back without turning, "Pretty sure Fury just said it is."

***

Bruce peaked into the gym to make sure practice was over before going in. Coach Hill wasn't different from Coach Ross in that respect. It was still a closed practice.

"Hey! There he is," Tony called over to him almost as soon as he entered. Bruce noticed Steve, Clint and Thor were hanging around still as well as he approached. "So, I was thinking since we're going to be working nonstop the next couple of days, you want to maybe get some dinner first and hit a movie?"

Bruce's mouth dropped open before he could stop it. He closed it again quickly, hoping it didn't look like he was startled by the question. He wasn't sure how to respond. Was Tony asking him…like…that? He glanced at the other three boys to see their reaction.

"Smooth, Tony," Clint spoke up. "He means we were thinking about all going. A little chill time between a killer week of practice and another one next week," he explained.

"Oh," Bruce replied.

"Oh," Tony said quickly, clarity in his tone. "Oh, you thought… No, I— I mean, hey, I like that option too. Don't think I don't. I really—"

"Tony," Steve interrupted, his tone patronizing. "Just stop while you're ahead."

"He was never ahead in that conversation," Clint countered. "More like he was just digging himself deeper and deeper." Tony frowned at him.

"Sounds like fun," Bruce intervened. Tony's frown turned upward. Bruce had the urge to add that he meant it sounded like fun either way, as a group or just him and Tony alone, and was on the verge of giving in when they were interrupted by Coach Hill.

Strangely she wasn't alone. Mr. Selvig was with her and he glanced at Bruce and Tony before looking at Coach Hill. Bruce's intuition told him something was wrong and he glanced at Tony with a furrowed brow.

Tony turned his head to look at him too before tentatively saying, "Is something up, Coach?"

She sighed and crossed her arms before looking down at her feet for a moment. Then she glanced back up with a professionally neutral face. "The game is being postponed until Saturday."

Bruce's eyes widened as did everyone's. "Wait, why?" Steve was the one to ask.

"Because the venue hosting the semifinals and championship game has run into some sort of difficulty they don't expect to be resolved in time for the game Friday," Hill answered.

"But they can resolve it by Saturday?" Clint asked with a dubious raise of his brow. "Something smells off about this."

"I don't disagree," Hill said. "I'll be straight with you boys. Yesterday an anonymous petition showed up online. Didn't take long to get traction and lots of support from parents and teachers."

"What about?" Tony asked.

"The argument was made that major games should be held on Saturdays instead of Fridays, to allow proper rest for the physical, mental and emotional exertion these games require. It would allow students to focus on school on Friday rather than anticipation for the game after the final bell. Finally, more families are likely to attend if held on a weekend."

"It's a solid argument all around," Bruce said when Coach Hill had finished her summary of the petition.

"And who do we know that's on the debate team," Tony practically growled.

"We don't know it was him," Mr. Selvig reasoned. "We have no way of proving it."

"Oh come on," Tony protested. "It can't be a coincidence."

"It could," Bruce played Devil's advocate. "I'm not saying I don't agree. I'm pretty inclined to think it's him too, but we can't do anything about it that won't make matters worse."

"And the HSAA has already made it's decision," Hill added. "So our hands are tied no matter what."

"So, that's it? I have to do one or the other?" Tony looked at Selvig.

"Unfortunately," Selvig replied. "The rules of the competition state that unless a student is incapacitated he or she must be on site to present the project to the judges. In the case of pairs, both must be present."

Bruce looked down at the floor, his heart sinking in his chest. It never failed. In spite of the way it had started to feel over the past month, in spite of the way he'd started to hope things were changing for the better for him, it just wasn't meant to last. His luck hadn't changed.

"Then I guess you'll have to play without me," Tony declared.

"Tony," Bruce started to protest, but was interrupted.

"He's right," Steve said.

"Look," Tony explained to everyone, "I've got two teams and it sucks that I have to choose, but it's not even a hard one to make. Bruce and I have worked too hard on that project. And I'm not going to let him down. If I don't go to the game, the rest of the team can manage to have each others' backs without me. And I think they can win without me," he added with a smile at his team. "But if I don't go to that competition, Bruce doesn't have anyone else. He doesn't even get a chance to win." Tony looked at him then. "I made the wrong call the first time I had to choose. I'm not doing that again."


	7. Breaking Free

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can you feel it building like a wave the ocean just can't control?

Tony lingered for a moment in his return trip from the kitchen. He stood there watching Bruce roasting a marshmallow as he sat in front of the fire pit in the early dusk. Tony worried if he didn't find a way to reign in his thoughts and feelings, he might do or say something stupid and ruin everything. But that was going to take a lot of control because the night felt wonderful, Bruce was wonderful, being together in their cocoon – away from school and sports and losers like Loki, laughing and talking and living science – was wonderful.

"I told you a break was a good idea," Tony said as he made his way back over and sat down beside him.

"Yeah," Bruce conceded, "good call."

"More soda for the night ahead." Tony offered him a can from the pack he'd brought back with him. "We may need to switch to coffee though."

Bruce laughed softly. "Really?" He took the can and Tony took one for himself. "You think with all the soda we've had today and junk food," he held up his roasting stick as evidence, "we should add coffee to our systems? Should we also spike our coffee with an energy drink or two?"

" _Now_ you're speaking my language," Tony said with a big grin.

Bruce knocked their shoulders together. "Stop. I don't want to have to use the reactor to restart your heart or something."

Tony barked out a laugh, high on the energy between them more than all the soda and sugar. "Think it could?"

"You're a genius. I think you know what that thing is capable of," Bruce said dryly. "But let's not try and find out just the same, okay?"

"Well, since you asked nicely," Tony said and this time he was the one to knock their shoulders together.

They sat in comfortable silence for several long moments. But then the silence started to feel uncomfortable and Tony wasn't sure why. He looked at Bruce and realized he was somewhere far away and the crease in his forehead told him Bruce hadn't gone anywhere pleasant.

"So, do you think we're gonna get this thing finished before you have to go home tomorrow?" Tony aimed for casual in spite of his concern.

Bruce hitched a shoulder slowly. "I don't see why not. Mostly just finishing touches at this point. And a few more test runs and—"

" _More_ test runs?" Tony lifted an eyebrow. "We've tested it plenty. We know it works."

"No, we know it works so far," Bruce countered sharply, taking him by surprise. "Anything can happen between now and next Saturday and it could… or, or you could…"

Clarity washed over him. "This is about what Loki said, isn't it? You think something's going to go wrong and I might get hurt in the process?"

"It—" He choked on the word and then hung his head. "It's happened before, Tony. You know that."

"Yeah, I read the article," Tony admitted. He'd tried not to, but curiosity had gotten the better of him in the end. "And looked up some others," he continued. "But as far as I can tell from the details it was just a fluke. Accidents happen, Bruce. Even to the best scientists."

"You don't—" Bruce sighed hard and ran a hand through his hair. "Look, you don't know that. You don't know it was just a fluke. I mean..." He paused. "I mean it wasn't on purpose. I know they thought because I was suicidal before..." He didn't seem able to finish. He didn't have to. One of the articles had said Bruce had been treated for depression and a planned suicide attempt a year before the accident and there'd been concern it might have been another attempt. "But I could be legitimately bad at this outside the realm of general study, Tony," Bruce started again when he was able. "There's always a chance that Loki is right. And I migh _mmm_ —" Tony stuffed a marshmallow into Bruce's open mouth, muffling him for a second before the other boy spit it out in reflex. "What the hell?"

"You said Loki might be right. Those words should never be uttered in any universe. It's like saying Voldemort."

"Don't try to be funny right now. I'm serious."

"I'm not being funny," Tony countered. "I'm serious too." Bruce looked surprised. Tony gave a small huff and tried to think of how best to put it. "Look, I get it now," he started cautiously. "You knew why I shied away from science and now I know why you have. I'm not trying to be insensitive." He paused, rolled his eyes here and there in consideration of that point and added, "Although I probably need to work on that. So let's just say for sake of argument, regardless of what I think is true, you _do_ have application issues. Doesn't matter all that much. We're a pair now, remember? Selvig thinks we make a good team. You think we make a good team. You said so; no take-backs." Bruce's eyes widened before he let out a strangled laugh, like his brain had wanted to choke on a sob and choked on unexpected amusement instead. "You be the physicist and I'll be your engineer, how's that sound? You never have to worry about not having anyone to tag in again when you need to, got it?"

"I..." Bruce narrowed his eyes down his nose, face scrunching. "I'm trying to." He looked back up at him. "I want to."

"Then," Tony took a chance and reached for Bruce's hand, "start by trusting that I trust you." Bruce startled, but he didn't pull the hand away. Tony laced their fingers, looking down at the place where they were interlocked with a smile before meeting Bruce's deep eyes again. "I do trust you. And I think that everything is going to be fine. But if you want to test it some more, that's fine too," he compromised.

Bruce didn't respond immediately, just studied Tony's face. Finally he gave a small smile and said, "Okay. I'll trust you."

Tony's smile in response was probably far from small. It felt like he was smiling with every muscle in his body.

"You want to get back to work now?" he asked Bruce.

Bruce looked away from him and back to the fire. "Maybe not just yet," he answered. "I think I'd like to sit here a little longer."

When Bruce didn't make any effort to unlink their hands, he understood his meaning. He'd been wrong before. _Now_ he was smiling with every muscle in his body.

***

Bruce opened his locker to put away his things before lunch and was surprised as a folded note fluttered to the floor. He blinked and his stomach fluttered in anticipation. He'd received cruel notes in his locker before at other schools, from bullies, but something told him this wasn't that kind. His hunch was proved right when he unfolded it and recognized Tony's handwriting right away.

He smiled as he read it and then quickly shut his locker and made his way to the greenhouse on the roof. Sure as the note had implied he found Tony waiting for him. He was sitting on the same bench as they'd sat on the first time and he had two bottles of soda and two brown sacks, which Bruce could only assume was their lunches.

"Romantic," Bruce teased.

"I'm practically a billionaire. Thought I'd splurge for the best I could afford," Tony teased back. "Anything for you."

Bruce chuckled and sat down beside him, the food between them. They hadn't really talked about what they were doing, officially, but Bruce kind of liked the easy way it was going. It didn't feel frantic and needy like that first week they'd been attracted to each other. That had been the chemicals and surprise of finding someone who might be special. This was them still falling into each others' space, finding themselves unable to stop with the touches and long gazes and implicit words and gestures. This felt more like what he thought it might feel like to fall for your best friend, no matter that Tony had only been his best friend for roughly six weeks and he'd already felt something more akin to 'at first sight' with him.

"So, what are we having, Mr. Billionaire?" Bruce asked as he opened his bag and pulled out the contents. "Oh, a sandwich and a brownie." He smiled wryly at him. "You did splurge."

Tony chuckled, a hint of nervousness underlying the sound. "Well, you know. And maybe I should have asked you before if you're allergic to anything," he added suddenly.

Bruce finished unwrapping the sandwich and took a bite. "I was going to do the troll thing you love so much," he said, as he swallowed, "but I can't even find it in me. This is surprisingly good."

"Surprisingly?" Tony raised an eyebrow as he took a bite of his own sandwich.

"I've heard rumors of a past home ec incident."

Tony frowned. "They have never found any proof that was me."

There was a beat of silence.

"It was you," Bruce said knowingly.

"It was me," Tony admitted with a snort. Bruce chuckled and shook his head. "But fancy cooking aside, what teenage boy doesn't know how to make a killer sandwich? It's like a rite of passage for a man. Sending your significant other to the kitchen to make you a sandwich is the sign of a weak man."

Bruce chuckled harder, spluttering around his sandwich. "Oh god. You sure have a lot of conviction about sandwiches." Tony smiled wide, cheeks full of said food item. Bruce swallowed hard and washed it down with his soda. "But, okay," he said with a nod, as he pulled the bottle away. "As good as this sandwich is, I guess you have a right to feel the way you do. I'll have to return the favor and make you one of..." He hesitated and looked down, fiddling with the saran wrapping a little. "I'll have to dust off one of my mom's old Irish sandwich recipes. They were amazing. She taught me the secret to making a few of them."

Tony didn't know the full story, not yet. Only that his mother was gone and it was the sorest subject in Bruce's sore past. But it was still enough for Tony to put his hand on his, and still his motions. Bruce looked up at him, the other boy's eyes reading with so much more than sympathy.

"Well, if you ever do," he said, "then I look forward to it."

Bruce's stomach flipped and he wanted so badly to kiss Tony again, but instead he ducked his head and smiled. Tony took it as a hint to pull his hand back. Bruce cleared his throat awkwardly. "So," he changed the subject, "did you make the brownie too?" He set aside his mostly finished sandwich and opened the dessert.

"Oh, yeah. Packaged it and everything just for you."

Bruce hummed as he took a bite. "'s good," he said without manners. He then swallowed. "May want to sue Little Debbie though. I think she stole your recipe."

Tony took a bite of his brownie and his eyes went as round as an exaggerated cartoon character. "Oh my god. You're right." Naturally they both broke out into a fit of laughter.

"Whatever you're doing you have about ten seconds to stop," Natasha's voice called up the stairs, interrupting them. "Huh. A picnic," she said when she reached the top, followed by Steve, Thor, Clint, Jane and even Darcy. "Cute."

"And you're kind of interrupting it," Tony said with a tight smile.

"We have a good reason," Steve said.

"We found a loophole," Jane blurted. Bruce furrowed his brow and glanced sideways at Tony. "Well, actually, Darcy did."

"What are you talking about?" Tony asked. "Loophole for what."

"You might still be able to play," Darcy explained.

"Oh," Tony said. "Look, guys, it's not a big deal. I picked the competition because it's what I wanted."

"No, you picked it because Loki forced your hand," Clint countered.

He had a point, Bruce thought. So he asked, "What's the loophole?" He didn't miss the strange look Tony gave him.

"Darcy and I were scouring the rules and she noticed that it said students have to be there to present the project to the judges, but it doesn't say anything about the actual winner announcement." Bruce's eyes widened as he processed what she meant. "I asked Mr. Selvig and he said it was a possibility. He contacted the judges for clarification, explained the situation and they said that as long as Tony is there for the presentation he doesn't have to stay. In fact, as of currently they said they can't demand any student be present to receive their award since it's never been a written rule."

"So Tony can play," Bruce reiterated, liking the sound of that as he looked at Tony.

"Well, in theory," Tony hedged.

"It might be a little tight given the time judging starts," Jane agreed. "But it's not impossible."

Tony sighed. "Seriously, thanks, but I'm not just going to leave Bruce alone to face the results."

"Tony." Bruce got his attention. "Do you want to play the game?" Tony scrunched his face as if confused by the question. "Can you tell me there's no part of you that was disappointed that you had to choose?"

Tony opened his mouth quickly. Too quickly apparently because then it shut again and his eyes darted around; Bruce could tell he was giving it careful thought as much as he'd seen that look lately.

"Well, yeah, I guess," he finally answered. "But mostly I was angry at Loki."

"Then don't let him win," Bruce replied adamantly. "Look, you didn't want him to get what he wanted with me, right?" He knew Tony would understand his vague question. Tony nodded. "I want you to play, Tony. I want you to be there for your team. And I want you to beat those Wolverines," he added with a smirk for good measure.

Tony looked at the others, one by one, and then looked back at him with a big smile. "Consider it done."

***

Tony hadn't gotten jitters over anything in a while. Pre-game jitters had been drilled out of him ages before.

"Go out there and play like you've already won and now you're just showing off," his dad told him all the time.

It must not have translated to this new arena because as scores of kids, parents, teachers, and even local scientists walked past his and Bruce's project booth and they demonstrated it multiple times jitters began to develop in the pit of his stomach. It was like each demonstration only made him less relaxed instead of the other way around.

"I don't know if I'll be able to be very helpful when the actual judges get here," Bruce said when they finally had a moment with no audience. His head was turned sideways and Tony followed his gaze. There were four, pristine-dressed adults at the end of aisle they were on, and the way they carried themselves Tony knew they were the judges. Bruce looked back at him. "I'm nervous. I… I haven't faced a judge since—"

"You'll be fine," Tony cut over him and threw an arm around his shoulder, hugging him to his side. " _We'll_ be fine," he corrected. "I'm nervous too," he admitted.

"You?" Bruce asked in a dubious tone. "You've led your team to how many wins?"

"Well, none," Tony pointed out. "I'm not the captain. But I get what you mean. I'm always performing under pressure so this should be a cakewalk for me…" He sighed and let go of Bruce, moving to make sure everything was in place for the looming judges. "But it's not. I feel like there's a lot more riding on this than any game or sport competition I've every participated in. I… I have more to prove. I have to prove it's not a fluke and this is what I'm supposed to be doing."

Suddenly Bruce was beside him and linking their hands. He gave a gentle squeeze and Tony looked at him. His face was full of understanding.

"It's not a fluke, Tony. No matter what the judges say, it's not. Sure, I'm nervous but I'm realizing this is more than you or me." Bruce licked his lip, flicked his eyes down and then flicked them back up. "I think this is a need that neither of us can deny anymore. And no matter what happens today, I don't think we'll be able to just stop."

"You're right." Tony nodded. His jitters calmed significantly. "This isn't just about today. This is about us, the future, what we want, what we're not going to let anyone else come between again." Tony hoped Bruce understood he meant more than just their interest in science, but the small smile that touched Bruce's face made him think that he did. Tony looked and saw the judges headed their way. "They're coming," he said. He grabbed Bruce's other hand, turning so they both faced each other, and held both his hands and his gaze. "You ready?"

"No," Bruce answered, small smile still in place.

Tony took a chance and leaned in and gave Bruce a quick peck on the cheek. "For good luck," he said with a wink. They both turned then to wait for the judges' approach, Bruce blinking widely a few times before shaking his head. "Welcome, ladies and gentleman," Tony started the presentation once the judges were standing in front of their booth. "I'm Tony Stark—"

"Any relation to Howard Stark?" One of the judges asked as he handed them the flyers outlining key details of the project – a requirement for the presentation.  

"My father," Tony said quickly. "I'm willing to answer any questions about him after the presentation. I may even be able to swing an autograph," he said with a wink, hoping the judges didn't mind a sense of humor. There were some chuckles so that seemed like a good indication. He glanced at Bruce.

"I'm Bruce Banner," Bruce said evenly. "My partner and I have developed a miniaturized arc reactor for the theoretical purpose of a condensed power source that is also clean."

"Two possible benefits of using a miniaturized arc reactor as an energy source are no more unnecessary electricity wasting or difficult battery disposal," Tony said next.

"Of course, this would be dependent on if we were able to safely and cost-efficiently mass produce it," Bruce interjected. "Which seems plausible."

Tony let those points sink in before stating, "It may even have medical applications. Theoretically this device could power an electromagnet used to keep a heart steady or to prevent shrapnel from reaching vital organs."

"Interesting hypotheses," one judge said as she looked over the provided flyer. "It's clear you've considered several long-term implications for the scientific community regarding your invention."

"Well," Bruce responded, "ultimately this is about more than just a single science competition." Tony smiled in understanding of his use of that point. "It's about developing something that has genuine real-world value and potential application. Something that could be built upon or, or studied further down the line by ourselves or others with more resources than we have at the moment."

"That's an excellent outlook," another judge complimented. "Although by the looks of your key points here, you managed to get hold of pretty good resources. Palladium can't be easy to come by for a couple of high school students."

Tony felt like it was almost a test. Perhaps they were trying to see if he'd thrown money at it, if he'd used purchasing power to get them an unfair advantage over other students. "Actually," Tony explained, "palladium scrap can be found in many items. It wasn't overly difficult within the budget each project was allotted by the school," he added to let them know they were aware of the rules, "to pull together enough palladium to create our small reactor."

"Of course," Bruce piggybacked on that, "if we were powering something larger than this robot we've created for the demonstration, more palladium would be needed to prevent the device from burning out faster than it should."

"Alright, go ahead and give your demonstration," they were instructed. "Let's see how the reactor works."

"Our little buddy here," Tony said moving to the robot, "has two power sources. One is your standard lithium ion battery." He held it up. "We will demonstrate first that the robot can run like any other machine on the battery." He put it into place and turned the robot on. Beside him Bruce had the controls of it, moving it around. They let it run for a minute then Tony removed the battery.

"Now we have the arc reactor," Bruce said, taking the small item in a reverential way. "We've slotted a spot here for it in the robot's chest."

"Mostly because it looks awesome that way," Tony quipped and Bruce chuckled genuinely as he put the reactor in.

"Mostly," Bruce agreed. "But there's some functionality purposes too. Not that he wouldn't know that being the engineer here," he joked as well.

The reactor lit up in white-blue light and the eyes of the robot lit up, indicating that it had powered on. Tony picked up the controller and began moving the robot.

"As you can see," Tony said, "the power source is fully functional. And we've indicated in our notes that according to our different experiments, the arc reactor consistently powered the robot longer than the lithium was able to do before needing a recharge. In fact, this reactor has not needed any tweaking in order to improve the power levels."

"Impressive," said the judge who had asked about his father. He then looked at his colleagues. "I think we've seen enough. Good job, boys." Then with a chuckle as they walked away Tony heard him say, "To think Howard Stark's boy."

"That was weird," Tony said once they were gone, blinking several times.

"No," Bruce mumbled in a dazed tone and Tony looked at him with a raised brow when he saw his expression matched. Bruce shook his head. "No, that…" His eyes grew wide and bright and he looked at Tony with a manic smile. "That was amazing," he said, exhaling the words with an exuberant kind of relief. "Oh my god, Tony," he said, and even gave a little laugh before gripping Tony eagerly by the shoulders. "That was _amazing_!"

Tony's own laughter bubbled out and he quickly bridged the gap between them so that he could pull Bruce into a giddy hug. "It was!" Bruce hugged back and it was about as manly as him and his team after they won a game and started dog-piling into an ecstatic group hug. "The game," Tony suddenly remembered. He pulled back and looked at Bruce. "The game," he repeated.

Bruce nodded, eyes wide. "Right," he said. "Yeah, you… You need to go."

Tony nodded back. "Okay, uh, I guess, I guess I'll see you later."

Tony turned, but was surprised when Bruce's hand held tight to his wrist. He turned back to ask Bruce if he was okay and just saw the sharp intake of breath and hard swallow the other boy took before Bruce leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. Tony forgot how to breathe for a moment and couldn't stop the smile that spread across his face.

"For good luck," Bruce said in a choked whisper and ducked his head, before glancing up at him with a small smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Return of my headcanon that Rebecca Banner was Irish (or of Irish heritage)  
> 2\. Hello, I'm ao3 user agentsimmons and I cannot science.


	8. We're All in This Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Together is where we belong.

Bruce shifted nervously in his seat. He glanced at the clock on the wall and then at his watch. He glanced around the room. He ignored the defeated scowl sent his way from Loki. Then he glanced at the clock on the wall and his watch again. The judges were taking an awful long time in making their decision. Of course, that was to be expected given the endless amount of talent there.

"Hey, relax," Jane said to him. "Everyone was raving about yours and Tony's project. You're going to place for sure."

"I would be happy with an honorable mention at this point," Bruce said. "It's the waiting that's getting to me more than anything."

"I think they're about to start," Betty said eagerly on Jane's other side.

Bruce flicked his eyes toward the front of the room where a table with trophies sat beside a podium. Sure enough the judges had returned, one making her way to the podium while the others stood behind the trophy table. There was a reassuring pat to his knee and Bruce looked to see his Aunt Susan giving him a reassuring smile.

"Good afternoon ladies and gentlemen," the judge started. "It seems like every year the amount of talent we see represented by the next generation increases exponentially. This year was no different. In fact, we've seen so many astounding, future-changing ideas here today that our task of bringing attention to a just a select few has been harder than it has ever been." She paused for a long moment. "We want you all to know that the distinction of these awards does not discredit those projects that we did not select. Every one of you here has shown great things. Every one of you here has the potential to change the world in some way or another with your intelligence, with your skill, and above all, with your passion." The judge paused again. "Now without further ado let us begin. If your name is announced, please come to the table and receive your award. If one or both students are not available to do so, we ask that the sponsor from the school receive the award in their place."

Bruce glanced at his watch. "Please start with pairs," he mumbled.

"We'll begin with our pairs category," she answered his quiet plea and Bruce sat up straighter. He wrung his hands as he listened through the seemingly unending list of honorable mentions. Then he must have blacked out a little because he didn't even hear third place. It must not have been him and Tony or else he was sure someone would have nudged him back to. He took a breath and tried to focus. "In second place with their outstanding Cerebro project, representing Westchester: Charles Xavier and Hank McCoy."

Bruce's stomach fell as he watched Hank McCoy, who he recognized from the academic decathlon meets, go up to accept the award for him and his apparently absentee partner. On the one hand he was a little surprised. He'd seen their project on one of his breaks from the booth and had assumed it would take first place. But if _it_ hadn't then there was no way that—

"And in first place, in recognition of their innovation and forward thinking, for their Miniaturized Arc Reactor project, representing S.H.I.E.L.D. Academy: Bruce Banner and Tony Stark."

The world tunneled all around him. Bruce's mouth fell open and he turned to look at his aunt dumbstruck. Her eyes were wide and wet with tears and her smile seemed more radiant than he'd ever seen it. He turned to his other side and saw Jane and Betty applauding him.

"Go on up there," Mr. Selvig patted him on his shoulder from the chair behind him and Bruce stumbled awkwardly out of his seat and up to the front, suddenly wishing Tony was here to accept it with him… or for them, honestly.

"Congratulations, Mr. Banner," the judge who'd seemed to know Tony's father said as he handed him a large trophy. "You and Mr. Stark have very bright futures ahead of you if today is any indication. I hope to see more of your work in the future."

"I, uh," Bruce cleared his throat and shook the hand held out to him, "I hope so too. I'll be sure to pass the message along to Tony," he added and the guy smiled at him.

Then Bruce moved off to the side of the room as fast as he could without it looking like he was fleeing. His heart was beating in his chest as he stopped and then held the trophy in both hands, looking down at it. He still couldn't believe they'd won.

"Congratulations," Mr. Selvig said, coming over to him. "I'm not surprised. You both certainly deserved it, but more than that you and Mr. Stark seem to have more than earned it. And a little tip for the future. There will always be Loren Olson's in this world. But it's important to remember you can rise above those obstacles with forward thinking. That is what science teaches us, Mr. Banner. Theories can never be proven. Only you have the power to confirm what is true and what isn't in your life."

"Thank you," Bruce said. He glanced at the trophy again. He knew that it was the school's trophy for the trophy case. Mr. Selvig had explained to them that winners would receive personalized trophies at school in a couple of weeks, so both he and Tony would have their own. But right now he wanted Tony to see this one. Actually, he wanted to see Tony. He glanced at the clock. "I think I'm going to head to the game," he said. "Can I… Do I need to leave this here?"

Mr. Selvig gave a small chuckle. "I think you can hang onto it until Monday morning."

Bruce smiled wide. "Thank you!" Mr. Selvig nodded and then returned to his seat. His aunt Susan waited until he was gone and then hugged Bruce tightly regardless of the large trophy he balanced away from them.

"I'm so proud of you," she said. Then she pulled away slightly, with tears in her eyes. "Your mother would be so proud of you."

Tears prickled Bruce's own eyes. He knew she was right. He wished his mother was there to see him, but he didn’t want to focus on what he didn't have at the moment.

"Hey, um," he swallowed down the lump in his throat, "Aunt Susan, do you think we could go to the game now? I know it might already be over," he wasn't really sure how long the game would go, "but I really want to see Tony."

She smiled and put a hand on his cheek. "Of course, dear. You two will want to celebrate, I'm sure." He smiled at how understanding and wonderful she'd always been.

***

"And S.H.I.E.L.D. is pushing the ball," the announcer on the side said as Tony dribbled the ball down the court. "And he's double-teamed by Summers and Howlett."

Tony looked around for an open man and passed the ball to Clint. Lensherr stole the ball and took off back down the court. Tony grunted in frustration as he turned on his heels. They'd been neck-and-neck all game long and now they were down to just a few seconds over two minutes left in the fourth quarter. Of course Lensherr tossed the ball up and sent it in for an easy two, putting them behind by four now.

Steve got the rebound and at that moment Coach Hill called a timeout. They walked toward the bench and huddled around her.

"You boys are still doing fine," Hill said. "But you're hustling a little too much. Slow down the ball." She looked quickly around the circle. "They're all over Stark out there so we need to try and get him open out there in the last minute. Whenever they're free, I want the ball passed to Wilson or Olson. I want you two to try and get in there and make the plays that are usually expected of Stark, got it? Draw their defenders away."

"Got it coach," they said in unison.

"Now back out there and do your best," she said.

They all threw their hands in the middle and chanted their silly battle cry of 'Avengers, assemble!' for motivation and then broke the huddle. As Tony turned back, he glanced into the crowd to find his parents, mostly to see his dad's reaction to the way the game was going so far, but got a small shock when sitting on the other side of his mom was Bruce and Bruce's aunt. His eyes locked on Bruce's with a widened gaze and Bruce held up a trophy for him to see.

A smile broke out onto Tony's face, but he couldn't do anything else as he made his way back onto the court in time for the whistle blow restarting the clock. Steve had the ball and dribbled it more slowly than before, taking Coach Hill's instruction to heart. Steve passed it to him and Tony dribbled it a few times as well. Then he passed it to Thor. Thor began to move the ball more aggressively and found himself fouled by Howlett.

Tony glanced up at the bleachers again and saw his dad tap the side of his nose with his index finger and then direct it toward him in a point. It was a gesture his dad gave that meant something along the lines of: 'I know you've got this, playmaker.' It possibly never meant more to him than it did in that moment. It meant his dad, for all of his dodging the subject of science and hypothetical relationships and even sports for the past six weeks and busying himself more than usual as if in avoidance of Tony himself, still believed in him at least when it came to this. He hadn't gone to the science competition, but he'd come to the game and was still rooting for him. So he hadn't completely disowned him. And Bruce was sitting beside his mom so maybe there was hope of him coming around on that too. It made Tony want to play even harder, give it all he had. For his team, for the school, for his dad, for Bruce, for himself.

So Tony immediately chased Summers down the court when he got the ball and when Summers missed he was right there. "Stark gets the rebound," the commentator shouted into the microphone, but it was practically a buzz in his ear along with the cheering and groaning from the spectators. "He's taking it down the court and, oh! He lets it fly from downtown! And, yes, it's good! That brings the score to a tie and the Wolverines call their last timeout."

"Good job, Tony." Steve patted him on the back as they headed for the huddle. Tony nodded and then glanced in Bruce's direction to see him smiling at him. He gave him a goofy thumbs up that made Tony's stomach do a goofy flip in answer.

"You think you're heating up out there, Stark?" Hill asked without segue.

"I think so, coach," he answered.

"Good," she said. "You keep your head wherever it's at and everyone else, if Stark is open get him the ball. I trust you know if you're hot enough to take the shot. If not, pass it on."

"Got it," he said.

"Alright, this is it, boys. Whatever happens out there you can feel good knowing you've given it your all this season." She glanced at Tony. "Every single one of you. But the season's not over yet so give it your all to the last buzzer."

Back out on the court, the Wolverines got the ball. They passed it around among them a few times, Barton got a steal, but then Howlett got it back. Howlett made an in-n-out shot and Thor got the rebound. Tony jogged back down the court, eyes on the ball as it was passed to Sam and then to Steve.

Tony saw Clint near the post and nodded at him. "I'm open," Tony called and Steve passed it to him. He dribbled around Lensherr and passed it to Clint for an assist.

They continued back and forth in this manner, each team scoring a handful more times, Tony definitely heating up as he scored six of the ensuing points. With the clock ticking down, they were down by one. It was the cliché of every game in every movie ever made about the game.

"Get back," Lensherr yelled at the Wolverines' defense when Howlett's layup was blocked by Steve, but it was too little too late when Steve got hold of the ball and then passed it to Tony for the secondary break.  

The last fifteen seconds on the clock turned into more of the frantic Run and Gun pace they'd been keeping. Tony's heart started beating wildly in his chest as the adrenaline pumped through his veins. He could hear the crowd going wild and the cheerleaders chanting on opposite ends of the court. No matter what happened there was a trophy in the stands for something else his heart beat wildly for, maybe even more so. And the thought of the boy holding on to that trophy not only made his heart beat wildest of all, it brought everything back into focus. As if the game itself was suddenly his latest project, he suddenly zeroed in on all of the potential plays and angles and trajectories. Like the engineer he was he was determined to make the right move happen when it counted most.

"S.H.I.E.L.D. has the ball!" exclaimed the announcer. "Time is running down on the clock now, folks! Olson passes it to Stark. Stark is looking for an open man." Realizing there wasn't one he swung to the outside. "Fake with a swing to the outside," the play was commentated on. "The ball is on the perimeter. Now Stark is looking for an inside man. Oh, wait, a nice screen from Rogers! Stark takes the shot and, and, it's good! Lensherr gets the rebound and, no, the center court shot doesn't go in!" The buzzer went off signaling the end of the game. "S.H.I.E.L.D. Academy Avengers are headed to the championship game!"

All of their fellow students and fans cheered in the bleachers as they celebrated in a huddle. That was quickly followed by the obligatory 'good game' to the opposing team before they hurried off to continue celebrating among themselves and their peers and parents. Tony, of course, only had one person in mind and when he saw Bruce hurrying towards the court, he met him halfway with an eager hug that spun them both around.

"You did it!" Bruce said, a smile in his voice making him sound so far removed from that crazy, and then shy, kid he'd run into on the pipe less than two months before. "You won!"

Tony pulled back from the hug, but still held onto him so that their faces were only far enough apart that they could really look at each other. "No, _we_ won," he said.

"First place, Tony!" Bruce seemed to remember. "We actually got first place!"

Tony was stunned for a moment, but then a smile broke out onto his face. He searched Bruce's eyes and saw happiness there that matched how he felt himself. It was overwhelming and unbelievable and absolutely perfect. Almost.

His eyes betrayed that last thought by finding Bruce's lips before quickly moving back to his eyes. Bruce must have seen it though because his mood changed slightly and Tony was pretty sure he wasn't imagining the same longing.

"Only one thing would be better than winning either the game or that competition," Tony said in earnest. "But I understand if… If you still think—"

"Tony," Bruce interrupted and Tony blinked. "I want to be your boyfriend."

Tony's heart stuttered, and maybe his brain too because the only response he could give to that was to kiss Bruce with all of the feelings and longing that had been building up inside for weeks. Bruce kissed back in equal measure so that all of the excitement around them fell away. The only two people in the world was them and Tony wanted it to last forever.

There was a stern clearing of a throat to dash that dream. Tony didn't break apart out of fear of being caught because he didn't care anymore. Instead he broke away from the kiss with a frustrated groan and said, "Kind of interrupting something important here." Then he realized it was his dad.

"I…" Howard glanced between them and Tony took Bruce's hand in solidarity, and hopefully to reassure him nothing his dad had to say would change what Tony wanted. "I can see that," Howard finally finished. "Just wanted to say you played a great game out there, Tony. Those were the kind of plays that can win the team the championship." Tony opened his mouth, but then narrowed his eyes when he noticed the trophy in hand at his dad's side. Howard brought it up and looked at it. "But I guess you're capable of a great many things." Howard met his confused gaze. "It's not easy for me to admit, but… But maybe I've been wrong about not wanting to support your other aspirations. I suppose I let my own past... my limitations... stop me from realizing _you_ can have the future I didn't." Tony was even more confused, but his dad didn't seem willing to elaborate. "So if you want to focus on science, then I'll try to support you from now on."

"I don't know that I want to give up all sports completely," Tony said. "I just, want more than that. I want to stop pretending. I want homework that isn't so easy I could probably finish during passing period," he added with a shake of his head. "But that was my fault for lying on the placement test."

"I _am_ upset about that," Howard said. "Ivy colleges want intelligent athletes these days. They expect them to do well academically. Being smart puts you at an advantage with their recruiters, Tony."

"But," Tony stammered, "you seemed upset when I aced it"

"Only because it was a shock. They were saying you were a genius, Tony. I always knew that you were intelligent, that you inherited my intelligence," he said, and again Tony wondered what his dad was driving at, "but on that level? They wanted you to skip grades and… and you'd never shown any sign of that kind of thing before. I was…" His dad must have realized his tone and took a breath. "I guess I freaked out a little. I'm… sorry. I'm sorry if I made you feel like you had to hide that part of you."

"Maybe I should go," Bruce mumbled after a long awkward silence.

"I'm sorry I made you feel like you had to hide any part of you," Howard added then, glancing at Bruce. Tony's eyes widened. "I'm not… Look," he brought a hand to his forehead and rubbed at it a little. "I was never trying to be—"

"Homophobic?" Tony offered and Howard pursed his lips.

"It's just going to take a little getting used to, okay? A father doesn't wake up every day and think, well if I find out my son is gay today that'll be a pleasant surprise." He sighed. "You know how it is, Tony. They tell you it's your fault as a parent. You weren't a good father or you let him become a mama's boy. It's... It's going to take some time to work through that, but I'm going to try."

Tony wasn't sure it was fair that it had to be that way, that the world had to make it that way, but he supposed he could be willing to give his dad the chance to work through it since he himself had to get past his own internalized issues thanks to the stigma's vicious refusal to go away. At least his dad was trying. So he nodded, looked at Bruce and then looked back at his dad.

"I understand," he hedged. "But, so you know, I _am_ dating Bruce and I don't care who knows." He looked at Bruce. "He's special," he said, wondering if his dad remembered their conversation. Bruce smiled. "And I'm not going to pretend like he's not just because others can't get with the program," Tony declared, looking back at his dad.

"Your mother seems to think you get that trait from me," Howard said with a small bark of laughter. He then looked at Bruce again. It was clear he still needed to steel himself with resolve, but he said, "Bruce, we usually host a party when the team wins. Since clearly there's a couple of wins to celebrate today, I hope you and your mom—"

"Ah, aunt," Bruce corrected and then ducked his head. "Sorry. Didn't mean to—"

"It's fine." Howard waved a hand. "Well, in that case, I hope you and your aunt can join us." He looked at the trophy and then back and forth between them. "I'll… see you there."

Tony watched as his dad walked away with the trophy still in hand, and he wondered if his dad really was proud of that accomplishment as well. But mostly he was a little stunned.

"Did that just happen?" He looked at Bruce.

"Uh… I was thinking the same thing," Bruce said, pointing. Tony followed his gaze to see Steve and Natasha looking a little chummier than usual. And awfully close. Had they just kissed?

"Wait, is she actually _smiling_?" Tony teased and Bruce elbowed him. "Ow," he said melodramatically before they both started laughing.

"Hey! Lovebirds," Steve heard their laughter and called over to them. "You gonna get over here and celebrate with the team, or what?"

"I don't know," Tony spoke loudly enough for them to hear. "You think we should, Brucey, or do we ditch them?" Tony lifted an eyebrow and smirked.

Bruce chuckled. "Tempting, but let's indulge them," he said even as they walked over to the others.

"He's going to be a bad influence on you," Natasha said to Bruce, pointing and narrowing her eyes.

Bruce looked at Tony with that small, wry smile of his and a gleam in his eyes. "I certainly hope so," he said and, naturally, the rest of the team burst into a chorus of immature 'oohs'.

Tony was pretty sure his entire self lit up at that and he pulled Bruce in for an answering kiss. "Likewise," he said, pulling away for just a second, before kissing Bruce more deeply, relishing in being able to do so now and openly.

"Great. They're going to be one of those couples," Clint muttered.

"Did you think they wouldn't be?" Steve asked with a chuckle. "Okay, you two, come up for air before Coach Hill gives us laps or something to break it up instead."

Tony pulled away with a laugh, high on the feeling of winning and friendship and definitely love. He looked at Bruce with a wide smile and mused that he'd never loved his life more than in this moment. The way Bruce smiled back made him think he just might love his life right now too.

Tony couldn't see the future, but he had a pretty good feeling that he'd found everything he was looking for or could possibly ever need and this was just the start. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Hello I'm ao3 user agentsimmons and I cannot sports.  
> 2\. In case it fell through the cracks or was unclear outside my head, I envisioned Howard as having been intelligent too, but not living up to his potential. Kind of inspired by Howard saying he was limited by the science of his time and that Tony would be able to do things he couldn't (only in this Howard was limited by himself/other unexplained circumstances)  
> 3\. Somewhere in a CHERIK au of this au Erik's last second shot goes in and Wolverines win instead lol

**Author's Note:**

> NOW OFF TO WRITE HIGH SCHOOL IS NOT A MUSICAL 2 AND 3! Ahaha, just kidding. (Although the senior year arc would be fun to play with, what with Gabriella's fears of abandonment and losing things she'd finally gotten showing up and Troy having to make the really major choices and doing whatever he can to keep Gabriella in his life and just... yeah that would probably be fun and sappy with Bruce and Tony instead.)
> 
> What I'll really be working on next is uploading the next chapter of Arrhythmia and then maybe another chapter of Mr. and Mr. Stark before the end of the month, now that I've gotten this dose of weirdness out of my system and hopefully my head in a better place. Actually, I really think I did get it in a better place because I didn't feel the need to apologize more than once in all of these author notes (and I refrained) which is maybe a record for me? Idk.


End file.
